Cor Blimey! This is a rollercoaster of a monologue performed by Russil Tamsen. It was written by one of our illustrious Tumblrites, Laura J. Blake. So much fun in one disaster! 7 mins. Original text here.
In the piece, a jilted, pent up Londoner struggles to apologize for decking the ex's new beau, but eventually he loses his self-restraint and goes ballistic - while the answering machine records every stammer and twitch. Somewhere between Simon Pegg and Jason Statham. I could have done it all flat and deadpan, true, but I decided on a climactic shape instead. 7 mins. :)
All rights reserved. Russil Tamsen: narrator, comic improv actor, book editor, and author of 21 ebooks. Please visit my ebookstore at QuirkEbooks.com and follow audiobooknarrator. Know a piece of Tumblr fiction that deserves a great reader? Run it by me!
„You believe???
Darling, everybody can believe, but to know...
To know is a whole other story. Knowing takes courage, it takes fierceness.
One has to dare to know.
Be fierce, be courages and when you speak, don‘t just believe, know.
Search to know, find answers to know, go out into the world and explore until you know what you believe to be true.
Because once you know darling, you will become unstoppable.“
@maopll @venusandsaturnsrings @yandere-daydreams @blackopals-world hey! I admire your writing work and fic on tumblr. I wrote this piece for a literature assignment not too long ago so I wanna know what you think as more active authors.
236,000 humans drowned this year. Do you mourn one? … I mourn all.
I’m responsible, named on the grave, cause of death: The harsh of the wave.
Is Poseidon to blame? No, it’s his wife! Amphitrite! Take note! This water is called she!
For millennia those men brave our rouges and our storms.
Millions lost yet billions borne.
Rán trawls her net over their boat thus yanking them into their final bed of rock and sand.
Ganga and Marina cry, their tears; typhoons
Eingana watches with mixed expression as she sees all her creation fight forces they can’t understand.
Mazu protects what’s hers, leaving the sanctity of her lagoon to do so.
Praised for beauty and poetry yet feared for the fact we she are of the few things one can’t command.
Those dead in deep water can’t be found.
The ocean leaves no trace, nor nothing that can save its face.
Families left, no peace for ones gone, unable to rest, it lingers in minds, a burden one cannot heal.
A wish to not be helpless, nights spent under the waves accompanied only by fish.
Over time it was a slaughter, bodies lost, souls gone, left to the sea.
What do they feel? The grains of sand or the teeth of a fish, The scales of an eel?
A body of death becomes a feature of new life.
A reef on the bones of the deceased.
The creatures do not know or care, It’s home now.
Their Thieves of remains, they desecrate the dead yet provide them purpose.
Perhaps they deserved to die? Men are not sinless creatures after all.
Especially considering how they treat us, isn’t that right Magwayen? they treat us with more than just spite!
How can they assume us to be kind when for centuries they’ve used us?
Sending fleet after fleet onto our surface and tipping their waist into our swash!
They have no right to treat us this way when the tears we cry are of the same pain
They doom our icecaps we so graciously froze just so they could come to fruition, I refuse to accept this!
How half of them refuse to take the blame while others drown
How they make shallow promises of prevention and change
yet you find those same mouths wet by lies of the above line
And those sinking cry why!
Hypocrites! all of them!
Notice how they call their most powerful, important, and feared things she!
Yet they call upon the husbands for safe passage through OUR waters!
They boast their achievements of deep-found treasure, but they turn coy at the mention of how they got there!
People are left to rot when the stem of their problems is of their own kind.
The lot of them are savage! Acting as gods pretending as if they too are not animals.
Everything in the universe is made from the same dust, and yet the humans audaciously claim they are of the most importance!
People beg us for mercy, to save them from their self-inflicted fate
They do this so much so, they forget they are the ones to blame!
We should send our rain and waves to condemn all for their ignorance!
Humans call the ocean treacherous and harsh! The foam of the waves is a sign of rough sea!
We will send raging storms, floods, tsunamis and even cause droughts!
All to make them fear us and come to terms with the fact they are ultimately powerless in the face of Mother Nature!
Mother! Not father! We will prevail in the face of man. We will leave them no time to even attend to the damage!
We will cull those who seek to conquer our home and make all who come after fear us!
Caging them inside a trap-like purgatory
They deserve it for all they’ve done to us!
The end of men! We will bring forth a matriarchy like no other!
No longer will we desire for respect and fame
Sing in Joy for the day of our redemption has come!
The reports are out by now so here is the monologue/poem:
236,000 humans drowned this year. Do you mourn one? … I mourn all.
I’m responsible, named on the grave, cause of death: The harsh of the wave.
Is Poseidon to blame? No, it’s his wife! Amphitrite! Take note! This water is called she!
For millennia those men brave our rouges and our storms.
Millions lost yet billions borne.
Rán trawls her net over their boat thus yanking them into their final bed of rock and sand.
Ganga and Marina cry, their tears; typhoons
Eingana watches with mixed expression as she sees all her creation fight forces they can’t understand.
Mazu protects what’s hers, leaving the sanctity of her lagoon to do so.
Praised for beauty and poetry yet feared for the fact we she are of the few things one can’t command.
Those dead in deep water can’t be found.
The ocean leaves no trace, nor nothing that can save its face.
Families left, no peace for ones gone, unable to rest, it lingers in minds, a burden one cannot heal.
A wish to not be helpless, nights spent under the waves accompanied only by fish.
Over time it was a slaughter, bodies lost, souls gone, left to the sea.
What do they feel? The grains of sand or the teeth of a fish, The scales of an eel?
A body of death becomes a feature of new life.
A reef on the bones of the deceased.
The creatures do not know or care, It’s home now.
Their Thieves of remains, they desecrate the dead yet provide them purpose.
Perhaps they deserved to die? Men are not sinless creatures after all.
Especially considering how they treat us, isn’t that right Magwayen? they treat us with more than just spite!
How can they assume us to be kind when for centuries they’ve used us?
Sending fleet after fleet onto our surface and tipping their waist into our swash!
They have no right to treat us this way when the tears we cry are of the same pain
They doom our icecaps we so graciously froze just so they could come to fruition, I refuse to accept this!
How half of them refuse to take the blame while others drown
How they make shallow promises of prevention and change
yet you find those same mouths wet by lies of the above line
And those sinking cry why!
Hypocrites! all of them!
Notice how they call their most powerful, important, and feared things she!
Yet they call upon the husbands for safe passage through OUR waters!
They boast their achievements of deep-found treasure, but they turn coy at the mention of how they got there!
People are left to rot when the stem of their problems is of their own kind.
The lot of them are savage! Acting as gods pretending as if they too are not animals.
Everything in the universe is made from the same dust, and yet the humans audaciously claim they are of the most importance!
People beg us for mercy, to save them from their self-inflicted fate
They do this so much so, they forget they are the ones to blame!
We should send our rain and waves to condemn all for their ignorance!
Humans call the ocean treacherous and harsh! The foam of the waves is a sign of rough sea!
We will send raging storms, floods, tsunamis and even cause droughts!
All to make them fear us and come to terms with the fact they are ultimately powerless in the face of Mother Nature!
Mother! Not father! We will prevail in the face of man. We will leave them no time to even attend to the damage!
We will cull those who seek to conquer our home and make all who come after fear us!
Caging them inside a trap-like purgatory
They deserve it for all they’ve done to us!
The end of men! We will bring forth a matriarchy like no other!
No longer will we desire for respect and fame
Sing in Joy for the day of our redemption has come!
(Reblog for bigger sample size pls)
Im writing a poem for my literature assignment and I need as many water Goddesses as you can find.
Any and every culture is welcome though I already have Greek, Norse, Indian, Chinese and Aboriginal (indigenous Australian)
ANY AND EVERY ONE COUNTS EVEN IF THEY WONT MAKE IT TO THE FINALE COPY
(I’m a huge mythology nerd so I’ll read into them anyway)
IF THIS POST WORKS AND DOES WELL I’LL ADD THE POEM ONCE THE ASSIGNMENT IS DONE
just finished the task and performed it in class today, but due to privacy/legality things I can't share the video however at the end of the week on Sunday (17th of March) I'll upload the poem.
(Reblog for bigger sample size pls)
Im writing a poem for my literature assignment and I need as many water Goddesses as you can find.
Any and every culture is welcome though I already have Greek, Norse, Indian, Chinese and Aboriginal (indigenous Australian)
ANY AND EVERY ONE COUNTS EVEN IF THEY WONT MAKE IT TO THE FINALE COPY
(I’m a huge mythology nerd so I’ll read into them anyway)
IF THIS POST WORKS AND DOES WELL I’LL ADD THE POEM ONCE THE ASSIGNMENT IS DONE
I’ve noticed that while gays, lesbians, and bisexuals are fairly common in plays nowadays, asexuals are nowhere to be found. Thus, I created Famine, devil may care hipster who nonetheless delivers a badass monologue (slightly edited for clarity) that hopefully reassures asexual people that they are valid.
“ Back when I was younger, it always confused the shit out of me as to why the thought of getting sexual with someone made me physically ill. I attempted to fix myself by going to various doctors, and drinking mysterious concoctions of medicines that supposedly increased sexual desire. Then one night, it occurred to me. Why the fuck was I wasting my time attempting to change a portion of myself just to please Society? So, I said screw it and let any person I was getting serious with relationship wise that sex wasn’t in the equation for me. It didn’t always work, mind you, but I finally was able to stop hating myself. Some people are going to be bigots regardless of how strenuously you attempt to educate them and there isn’t much you can do about it. But someone who truly loves you, will accept, and embrace the fact that you’re nonbinary the same way they’ll accept I happen to be a biromantic asexual.”
My little brother would honestly make such a good media star.
Podcast host? Yas queen, he got the voice, he got the humor.
TV show star? Obviously. He’s got the looks and the friend group. His hair, his style, his monologues, his creativity.
YouTuber? Believe me, everyone would be simps. They’d be making TikToks rating his laugh and his singing and make “out of context” clip channels.
Honestly, I'm constantly on the brink of a monologue
Just a flat-out, villainous, rambling speech about the impudence of the world
The only thing stopping from subjecting people to them is the crippling anxiety that I'm taking up too much of the conversation and being inconsiderate
being mutuals is like. liking your posts. sending you an ask. i would ruin my sleep schedule a million times to talk to you in this moment. liking your post. reblogging your post. laughing out loud in public at the stupidist message. i've never heard your voice but i'd kill for you. a hug from you would fix all my problems. liking your post. i'd scream these song lyrics with you in any life. rebloggging your post. sending you an ask. and then one day it's like. home is a person i've never physically met
“there must be another way, another ending to this madness.”
“but oh how I’ve dreamt of it this way.”
"So if I asked you about art you’d probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo? You know a lot about him. Life’s work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right? But I bet you can’t tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You’ve never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. Seen that. If I asked you about women you’d probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can’t tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You’re a tough kid. I ask you about war, and you’d probably, uh, throw Shakespeare at me, right? “Once more into the breach, dear friends.” But you’ve never been near one. You’ve never held your best friend’s head in your lap and watched him gasp his last breath, looking to you for help. And if I asked you about love you probably quote me a sonnet. But you’ve never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone could level you with her eyes. Feeling like! God put an angel on earth just for you…who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn’t know what it’s like to be her angel and to have that love for her to be there forever. Through anything. Through cancer. You wouldn’t know about sleeping sitting’ up in a hospital room for two months holding her hand because the doctors could see in your eyes that the term visiting hours don’t apply to you. You don’t know about real loss, because that only occurs when you love something more than you love yourself. I doubt you’ve ever dared to love anybody that much. I look at you; I don’t see an intelligent, confident man; I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you’re a genius, Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine and you ripped my fuckin’ life apart. You’re an orphan right? Do you think I’d know the first thing about how hard ! your life has been, how you feel, who you are because I read Oliver Twist? Does that encapsulate you? Personally, I don’t give a shit about all that, because you know what? I can’t learn anything from you I can’t read in some fuckin’ book. Unless you wanna talk about you, who you are. And I’m fascinated. I’m in. But you don’t wanna do that, do you, sport? You’re terrified of what you might say. Your move, chief."
-Sean Maguire, Good Will Hunting