Charlie Mann is an actor and sometime playwright living in New York City. He's happier than his writing would suggest.
its when youre sitting in the room just waiting because hes still in there and you think to yourself god this is the third time now in two years and every time you come up here ready to say goodbye and theres the stale air of the waiting room and the stale air of waiting and you catch yourself wondering just a little but still wondering if it wouldnt be easier if maybe he just went already and if not him then if you walked in there and pulled the damn plug yourself. this is what you know of death.
Afternoon and dreaming, they float. Pour the booze. Will it? No. Nothing does. And float, still floating, the words. Words I might. Someday. Words. Wanted, but. Always slipping. And I can't. Why I can't. But try! Slipping and floating. God damn it. More booze. See them. Out of a corner. Hear them. Around a corner. So then? Turn the corner, find and. And? They grow. Yes? Maybe? No. Don't. Doesn't. More. Pour more. Will it? Why will it? Now? Will it now? Why? Never did. No matter. Pour. Open the gates. Dream of them. The words. Words I might. Someday.