Rest Assured

In this monologue SAM, a homeless man, walks the city streets mumbling out-loud to himself. 

SAM: What do you think?  I don’t got it?  Ohhhh, I got it, I got it.  Put me anywhere.  Any time, any place.  I’ll go up against the best of ’em.  THE BEST of ’em.  (beat) It’s all heart.  I ain’t never had no average heart. NEVER!  I got a heart that-that goes for miles; reaches up, and OUT; FAR out, till nobody see it no more but everybody feel it…you feel it, sure as hell as you’re looking at me all open wide, you feel it.


Ain’t nothin’ over!  I’m still here, I’m still breathing, I’m still working; maybeeee not in the flesh, how you say?  In the doing of it, with what you see, all of you see but-but I’m working…within.  I’m workin’ haaaard, within’.  Within’ my chest, my heart that—ohhh, I’m thriving; I’m seeing; I’m tasting; I’m stripping…all the, the, the sweat equity you call it. I AM SWEAT EQUITY.  I am the most rotten, smelliest, greasiest piece of sweat you ever come near.  I am…I am.  Ahhhhrrrrr…I hears ya talkin’ in your mind, through your eyes, I hear in my mind your thoughts, all the things you jabber about; he’s lost, he coulda been somethin’, he’s bitter, he’s got pent up rage; he’s a loser—SHHH!!!  Now just wait!  JUST WAit…it’s what I know; ain’t you or nobody gonna take from me what I know; it’s my talent, my curse and gift all rolled into one BOMBASTIC—-


I can’t control it, son…I can’t; this thing’s gotta grip on me, black claws deep the pulse of my neck, squeeezing and squeeeeeezing and shaking the very will of my manhood, to-to-to until I got no way out…so I write, I write with broken pencils I sharpen with a broken pen knife and ah, HAHAHA, ah, paper found from the trash and I write these stories; I write the most beautiful stories…don’t I?  Stacks of ’em, stacks of peeling, yellow paper…stained and dying just like me.  (beat) Ahhhrrr, just let me be, let me be, I’ll be alright, I wish I could stop but I can’t, son.  I need you to love me enough to understand what I am.  I need you to love me enough to accept me.  Can you accept my—I need to be alone.  I’ll, let me be alone right now…I’ve said too damn much.

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterShare on RedditShare on TumblrEmail this to someonePrint this page

Joseph Arnone

Joseph Arnone is the founding editor-in-chief of Monologue Blogger. In addition to running MB, Joseph is a filmmaker/producer who has had his films premiere at Festival de Cannes - Court Metrage and Tribeca Cinema's Big Apple Film Festival. He can be reached at