JENNY: FEAR SECTION
Jenny is sitting on the floor, writing in her journal.
Start tape (Simon & Garfunkel)
I started writing a journal when I was a teenager because I had no one I could talk to about my pain.
Hello Darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again,
I’m all alone in my apartment. David is with some other girl. Why does it always end like this? What did I do wrong? Nobody ever loved me and nobody ever will.
… within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
I feel so lonely and frightened. Everything is dissolving. I feel so cold. I wish there was somebody here, it wouldn’t have to be a lover, just a friend, just a companion. … turned my collar… But I’m so hopeless and inadequate. I just sit here wallowing in my negative feelings and never being positive. Of course nobody wants to be with me. I must be an incredibly awful person that nobody ever loved me.
Fools said I you do not know, silence like a cancer grows
There are soldiers dying in Vietnam. …Hear my words that I might teach you, take my arms that I might reach you… I joined a group to protest the war, but sometimes they seem to blame the soldiers for the war. Don’t they understand — soldiers just do what they’re told. …in the sounds of silence… And now they’re over there, lost in a dirty war in the jungle, and congress never declared it and we don’t know how to stop it and nobody knows what we’re fighting for. I’ve signed petitions, I’ve marched, I’ve refused to pay my taxes… We’ve got to stop this war. The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls… but what good does it do to protest?
in the sounds of silence
I wish I weren’t so sensitive. The littlest thing seems to knock me flat. I’m such a weakling and a coward. If I were a better person I could get someone to listen to me …
A winter’s day in a deep and dark December, I am alone…
I can’t stand it, it hurts so much. It feels like there’s some evil demon inside me. How can I get it out? I know, I’ll take this razor blade… OUCH, it hurts. How do people kill themselves I wonder, skin is really tough… O look, it’s bleeding. I’ll write in my journal.
H – E – L – P
And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries.