Positive Thinking

AT RISE:

A DUDE at a computer!

DUDE:
"You know what I'm sick of?" he asks himself, being as there is no-one else around that he could be communicating with. And the "I" in that previously sentence is referring of course to me, which might be confusing for anyone who thought I was referring either to an anecdote I was in the middle of when they (whoever "they" might be) first became aware of my current thought process (through what means I could not begin to guess). This clarification is doubly necessary due to my proximity to this computer, which might render statements, such as my first, confusing in terms of their origins, as I might be speaking aloud those words which I am, or have been in the process of typing. I also might be reading something off of its impressively shiny monitor. But none of these are the case, I assert to thin air, perhaps in the hope of nosy neighbors or some sort of "big brother" (the Orwellian nightmare, rather than the all too familiar familial one) type who might be listening to my every word for purposes I have no ability to fathom, perhaps to record them for posterity, more than likely to masturbate to in either a physical or intellectual capacity. But enough of that particular tangentm as I am afraid it is a bit too carefully worn for my personal taste. Innuendo unintentioanl, a point that I feel necessary to make though I am, again, by myself. Perhaps it is the same impulse that causes us to excuse ourselves when we burp alone, or perhaps it is simply a sign of swiftly approaching dementia. But I digress. Do you know what I'm sick of? (Knowing full well that the question is somewhat rhetorical due to his own knowledge of his current thought process).

A beat.

DUDE:
I'm sorry, I was fully intending to continue with the original thesis of my soon-to-be diatribe, but I just realized that the thing I was planning on caomplining about was the amount of complaining and negativity present on the internet, thus unintentionally adding to it. Not that I feel I am on the internet right now, being as I am a person speaking aloud, apparently to himself in a small, enclosed room with four (count em' FOUR) good walls, but I believe the intention still stands and thus I will conclude this, whatever-it-is, with a simple good night, and enjoy your weekends. Thank you.

A beat.

DUDE:
You're welcome?

He sits at the computer.

BLACKOUT. THE END.