TRAFFIC

by Robert Healy

The idea is that we're never really here. That we spend our whole lives looking forward.

I've never been anything but a collection of dreams and dissapointments.

--

GUS

MICHAEL

TRAP

--

A train car. Empty. MICHAEL boards and takes a seat. GUS boards and finds space, four rows up from MICHAEL and across the aisle. TRAP boards and takes the seat right next to MICHAEL.

TRAP (to MICHAEL)

Hey.

MICHAEL says nothing.

TRAP

Hey.

MICHAEL

Hi.

TRAP

What are you reading?

MICHAEL

The New York Times.

TRAP

What does it say?

MICHAEL

What do you mean?

TRAP

What does it say? What is it telling you?

MICHAEL

It's the news.

TRAP

What's the news of the day? How are we doing?

MICHAEL

Fine, I guess. I don't know.

TRAP

You don't know? Well how long have you been reading the news?

MICHAEL

I just read it on the way to work.

TRAP

Every day?

MICHAEL

Yes, pretty much.

TRAP

And you don't know what it's telling you?

MICHAEL

I don't know. I'm not really sure what you're trying to say.

TRAP

I'm not trying to say anything. I'm asking. What is the news telling you? Why do you read the news and what is it telling you?

MICHAEL

I read the news to know about what's going on around me.

TRAP

So the news is telling you what's going on around you. And what have you determined?

MICHAEL

I haven't determined anything. It's not like that.

For example, the war. I want to know what's going on in the war.

TRAP

Oh, of course—the war. There's always a war, isn't there. You know, that's real admirable of you, staying up on the war. You never know when your opinion will be asked about.

MICHAEL

Thank you.

TRAP

So, what is your opinion?

MICHAEL

On the war?

TRAP

Yes, what is your opinion on the war?

MICHAEL

Well, obviously it's a complex issue.

TRAP

Is it obvious? Is that what the news is telling you?

MICHAEL

No, I don't need the news to tell me that it's a complex issue.

TRAP

What do you need the news to tell you, then? What does the news tell you about the war?

MICHAEL

Well, it depends on the outlet.

TRAP

So the news is different depending on who makes it?

MICHAEL

Well, no...not different, just...just—

TRAP

Spun?

MICHAEL

I suppose you could say that.

TRAP

So who spins your news?

MICHAEL

I try to find objective opinions.

TRAP

Objective opinions. That sounds oxymoronic. Is The New York Times telling you how it really is? They're giving it to you straight?

MICHAEL

I believe so.

TRAP

And that's why you choose them over other newsmakers?

MICHAEL

Yes, partly.

TRAP

Partly? Why else?

MICHAEL

To be quite honest with you, they're quite prestigious.

TRAP

Ahh, they're prestigious. They've earned their prestige with objectivity, is that it? You seem like quite the sophisticated citizen, reading the news to stay on top of the war, valuing objective opinions—I certainly wouldn't want to be on your bad side. Good for you.

(Points to GUS) I'm almost certain that man doesn't monitor the war like you do.

MICHAEL

I couldn't say.

TRAP

(Yells to GUS) Hey! Man!

GUS turns. MICHAEL looks embarrassed.

GUS

Yes?

TRAP

(Shouting) We were just wondering if you read the news!

GUS

Umm, no, not really. Is there something I should be worried about?

TRAP

(Still shouting) So you're not up on the war then?

GUS

I hear about it, enough to know what's going on.

TRAP

What's going on? All I've heard is that it's complex.

GUS

I know there's been a lot of deaths, and it's dangerous there, and the governments have mishandled opportunities to end it.

TRAP

Sounds like a war. Say, would you like to sit with us?

GUS

Okay, sure.

GUS moves to the seat across the aisle from MICHAEL and TRAP.

TRAP

While we're at it, why don't we introduce ourselves.

GUS

My name is Gus.

MICHAEL

My name is Michael.

TRAP

I've decided to change the subject. Let's discuss death. Have either of you two thought about it?

A pause as MICHAEL and GUS adjust to the abrupt change of subject.

GUS

Yes, of course I've thought about it. It's a natural part of life.

TRAP

Funny, isn't it? How it's a part of life, and yet, it's a completely separate entity—seemingly with its very own rules and regulations.

(To Michael) Have you ever anticipated it? Have you ever wished for it?

MICHAEL

I think you've been pushing boundaries since the moment you stepped on this train. I think there are laws to keep people like you away from people like me and him.

TRAP

The more corrupt the state, Tacitus wrote, the more numerous the laws. It is the rare fortune these days that a man may think what he likes and say what he thinks. Well, I ask myself, what do you have to say for yourself? And then I wonder about my actions. It seems as if I just continue to find things to do—things that take the time from what I should be doing instead. Maybe I should read Atomic Habits. Do you have any advice for me?

GUS

Wait a second, you two don't know each other?

MICHAEL

No, he just hopped on the train and took this seat.

TRAP

I was just looking for a friendly conversation. I just wanted to know what you were reading. This city belongs to anger, it seems. Why must we all be strangers?

MICHAEL

You've yet to even share your name! Asking questions of me like I'm doing something wrong by reading the paper, even if it's just to pass the time, what's it to you? What do you think I should do on the train?

TRAP

Sit, with your head in your eyes and your hands in a bundle by your feet.

GUS

That sounds painful.

TRAP

What is it about pain that leads to suffering? Why can't pain bring pleasure, or an opportunity to learn?

MICHAEL

That's a kink, man.

TRAP

There is no objective truth, my friend. Haven't we done our reading of Protagoras? Truth is relative to each individual's perception and judgment. Your ethics mean no more than mine. Your morals are just as musty as Marquis de Sade's. Gus, what do you do?

GUS

I paint. I'm a painter.

TRAP

Oh, how wonderful. And Michael, what do you do?

MICHAEL

I write. I'm a writer.

TRAP

Ahh, exquisite. And what was the last thing you wrote? How do you feel about your profession?

A pause as MICHAEL weighs how much to release.

MICHAEL

I don't remember. I can't write anymore. When I put my pen to paper it seems to repel. I have been told to do what I love, to pursue my passions, and yet, where are they? How do I know what I love when I mostly feel nothing, when all I wish for is rest? How much have I attached to this craft, I ask myself. The malignant burden of expectations and deadlines, the long cry of what once was and what will never be again. All I want is to write and the ink of my words has run dry.

TRAP

What is the logical conclusion from this folly? It seems to be the idea of bursts and how to sustain them. How to, once you have felt the inertia of action, push through your trepidation and continue in fear, continue walking the halls that lie unlit and dusty, this new corridor of life extending out before you. Does it matter if every article, every supposition you make is nothing but blasphemy, nothing but the product of an unstable mind, of a poorly wielded pen? Of course not. Who are you doing it for anyway?

GUS

When creating, the best possible state to be in is one of curiosity. What will happen if I... What may come of this or that or the third? You must attempt to answer these questions! The questions themselves are the roadmap to answering them. That is what creativity is all about, I think. Creativity is an act, Robert Henri wrote that.

TRAP

There is the realization that you might not have it. There is the realization that you are throwing away time. But, then, there is the realization that time is nothing but an attachment, and it can't be thrown away, or used properly or improperly, it simply is, and we're simply sitting in it and allowing it to turn the pages of our experiences. Time is everything we perceive, time is what brings about perception. To say that you have the power to wield time ineffectively is vain and presumptuous. You must do away with this idealogy.

GUS

In a sense, your world is completely your own, and time makes it so. The more authentic you choose to make it, the happier you shall be. You are like a crab searching for a shell. If you love writing, allow it to set you free.

TRAP

And yet, at the same time, all things contain duality, and the most powerful forces of freedom can be the most authoritarian and controlling. What to do in a world where balance is the key? How can you find balance among the elements of your life when maps have yet to be made for these things? These are the questions you must ask yourself.

MICHAEL

If a soul is made of rocks, do you find balance using weight or volume? Or perhaps color, smoothness, age—oh, there are too many variables to control for. Oh, I can't solve this feeling with words.

TRAP

It's not about solving! A creative act intended to change society must not end in repose, must not end in equilibrium. The creator must share those jagged edges, the pieces of instability that jut out of every corner of the mind, and therefore whatever medium they are working within.

MICHAEL

But I don't intend to change society with my writing.

TRAP

Well, then your aims are not high enough. I can't help you there.

A word of advice, too, when it comes to writing. All of your sentences should be able to hold their own weight, to stand on their own as a single unit. And all of your words should be repeatable, at least three times in a row.

MICHAEL

Why should I aspire to anything? Isn't that as vain as assuming time is under our control?

TRAP

No, of course not. To aim high is the opposite of vain.

Orson Welles wrote that "our works in stone, in paint, in print, are spared, some of them, for a few decades or a millenium or two, but everything must finally fall into war, or wear away into the ultimate and universal ash—the triumphs, the frauds, the treasures and the fakes. A fact of life: we're going to die. 'Be of good heart,' cry the dead artists out of the living past. 'Our songs will all be silenced, but what of it? Go on singing.'"

I promise you, Michael, you are closer to where you want to be than you think you are.

MICHAEL

What do I write about?

GUS

Write about your dreams, of course. We live in a field of life or death, and dreams are the grains that grow.

MICHAEL

My dreams are dusty and dry. My dreams desert me.

GUS

A poor craftsman blames his tools. Perhaps you're the one doing the deserting. Perhaps stop perceiving your dreams with words. Perhaps you should view your dreams as the very art you intend to create. George Brecht said, "art unites us with the whole; words only permit us to handle a unified reality by manuevering arbitrarily excised chunks."

TRAP

What Gus is trying to say is that you should stop viewing your writing as an isolated act. Stop viewing words as a source of self-expression and start viewing self-expression as a source of words. I hope this will help you recognize all that writing is for you, even though I know you won't until its gone—which is odd; that you can't understand an action's full impact until it has ceased.

MICHAEL

I use words as an excuse to waste them, is what you're saying. I use words as an excuse to waste them. Do I believe in myself? Do I believe in myself? Do I believe in myself? Am I delusional? What if what if what if? I'm always thinking about what could be or what could have been when really nothing's happened at all. I'm sick of this feeling of wasting. I'm sick of this fear of ruin. I have no vision inside of me. I have no vision inside of me. I have no vision inside of me.

I've got to formulate a plot. I don't like anything I don't hate anything I don't have anything to show or hide. I am nothing. I am in despair. I have been eating frozen blueberries for breakfast and I've been feeling rather drab.

GUS

Your thoughts are a gordian knot. Stop playing with them.

MICHAEL

I'm trapped. I'm trapped and destitute and I fear nothing but success. What can be said to others that should not be said to yourself? Everything we do in life is directed inward. These things we take for granted can only go so far as to control us. We are nothing but the sum total of our sins. We are nothing without the hope of salvation. How do you conquer your own mind? In your objective opinion, am I special in any way?

GUS

It doesn't matter if you are or not.

MICHAEL

What does matter?

GUS

Your actions. Your musings are melodramatic. It will all work out.

MICHAEL

I'm tired of hearing it will all work out. Nature passes no judgment and animals die every day. What makes us think we deserve happy endings? Balance means that for every miracle there must be tragedy. The world owes me no favors and I'm acutely aware of it. The issue with not writing, I've just now realized, is that my silence seems to fester. I do have something to say, you see. I've been meaning to say it for quite some time, and society won't let me speak my mind. What a terrible taste in my mouth, this trepidation leaves. It coats my tongue and makes me sick. It coats my tongue and makes me sick. It coats my tongue and makes me feel like dying. Where are all the people? No one even reads my writing. Where are all these people and the presence they owe me?

TRAP

What do you wish for them to read if you you've written nothing? No one can see the work you're doing unless you share it. And where is it? Where is the work?

GUS

I believe you must embrace art as an act for your eyes only. And nothing becomes easier. Nothing becomes easier. Will you be shaped by your misfortunes, will you be spit out? You must not be afraid to ask. You must look your fear in the eyes and walk right into it. Right around the time you think about giving up is when the work becomes most important. And know that art always starts as imitation.

TRAP

Did you know your life can change in a month? Did you know your life can change in a day? Did you know your life can change in a moment? Which moment is yours, you must ask. Which moment will you choose for yourself? Which moment will you become what you wish yourself to be? Your fear is the beginning, your fear is a sign of where you should start.

MICHAEL

I've been thinking about how emotions fold in on themselves and make an empty figure out of me. I don't believe I should use them as a basis on which to act. How do I know if what I'm doing is right?

TRAP

You don't, and you don't want to know. How it works out is a mystery and it should be left that way. Jack Rosenthal said that. The journey is what you're after, and the journey is not about any specific action, it's about action itself, it's about the experience of anything, it's about being open to understanding yourself in everything that you do.

GUS

And besides, none of it matters all that much anyway.

MICHAEL

How can I decipher the craft? How can I truly impress the masses? What am I saying that matters? These words, your wisdom, it doesn't really make me feel any better. What am I working towards if not the worship of something false?

TRAP

You need to learn to move beyond your worries. Obviously there's no time for that.

GUS

We've been dreaming since day one, this is what Robbie Axtell once said. It means more than you know—the idea that humans have always had aspirations, that there's always been something a little abstract about the way we exist, and there's no sense in overthinking it.

MICHAEL

I should carve out my own meaning, then? There's no such thing as absolute truth, then? Nobody owes me anything, except myself. I have much to prove, much to prove, much to make myself aware of.

TRAP

Yes, and you must believe in yourself first and foremost. If you don't believe in yourself, why would anyone else? Despair is static, self-realization is dynamic, and you don't want it to end.

MICHAEL

So it's the process of change itself that makes you more than what you are. The equation doesn't even include the effect of the change. This seems illogical and so obvious at the same time. This is the concept of limbic friction I suppose.

The train slows and then stops. The doors open and the three men depart.

TRAP

And stay away from the news. If it's important enough it will make itself apparent.

END.