Interiors – Monologue (Renata)

A monologue from the screenplay by Woody Allen

RENATA

My impotence set in a year ago. My paralysis. I suddenly found I couldn’t write any more. Rather, I shouldn’t say suddenly.

Actually, it started happening last winter. Increasing thoughts about death just seemed to come over me. 

Um, these, uh… A preoccupation with my own mortality. These… feelings of futility in relation to my work.

I mean, just what am I striving to create anyway? I mean, to what end? For what purpose, what goal? 

I mean… Do I really care if a handful of my poems are read after I’m gone? Is that supposed to be some sort of compensation?

I used to think it was, but… now, for some reason… I can’t… 

I can’t seem to… I can’t seem to shake the real implication of dying. It’s terrifying. intimacy of it embarrasses me.

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