FADE IN- The room is smoky and dimly-lit. Opens with MS of a mobile made of papier mache stars slowly spinning in the foreground while a television flickers behind it, out of focus, blinking with static in between images of a news reader, the sound muted. Camera pans left and we see DELILAH sitting on the floor in front of her sofa, facing the television. An ashtray beside her on the carpet is filled with what look like flower petals. DELILAH is holding a long thin cigarette and a stream of smoke curls up and around her. She idly brings it to and from her mouth. Eventually, expressionless, she looks directly into the camera. Switch to a CU shot of her face, which remains absent of emotion.
DELILAH (V.0.)
I don’t know where it came from or who grew it.
He said something like he got it from Mount Olympus.
Obviously, it’s worthless talk, but I’m telling you,
it works, it really works. There are these huge
black holes, empty spaces in my life when I look
back on it. That was a lot of the problem in the
first place. All the looking back. Getting stuck.
I don’t remember half of it now and my head doesn’t
ache when it rains. Of course, it must be different
for everyone, but it erases the worst thoughts,
no- it makes nothing out of them. Like they never
existed. And I know they did exist, it’s just now
I don’t have to know. I’m telling you. None of us
have to know. We don’t have to be stuck. We can even
hurt one another the way that people inevitably do
and then make it disappear. We can be remade, start
all over, as if there’s really a time machine.
We can be elemental. That’s the best part.
I don’t need memory to keep living anymore.
Towards the end of the soliloquy, the camera pulls back from her face. The wall behind her comes into focus. There is a piece of paper with handwritten words taped to it. We see the words: ONE DAY THIS WILL ALL MAKE SENSE.