Blurred Lines

Scene i

It's strange to me that you're dying right now.

Strange to you? How do you think I'm feeling?

Well, looking at you, it doesn't seem so bad -
Mean, you don't look like you're dying to me.
It is only because I know that you are,
That I comment 'pon the discrepancy.

Clearly all that healthy living paid off.

Healthy I'm not so sure of, but living...
You certainly have done a fair share of that.

Well you would know; we've been friends long enough.

Is that all I am, after all this time?

Friend is high praise. There aren't many of them.

And I have to wonder who's fault that is...

Nature of the business, I'm afraid.
I'm surprised you've stuck around so long.

For some reason I wish I had longer...

It's not like I've been very kind to you...

And I don't regret a single minute.
I wouldn't be who I am without you,
And I do not know who I will become,
Without you lurking over my shoulder.
You have always been the sage in my life...

And now you're giving me far too much credit.
All I have ever done is talked too much;
You're responsible for your own choices,
I've just hung around to witness them all.

And I've gotten myself into a few...
I'm gonna be lost with you around.

I won't say I'm not glad to be missed,
But I think you undervalue yourself.
You have always managed to come out on top,
And you'll do so even without me here.
Stop being so dour. If anyone...

You're right, of course. I'm just being selfish.

We're all selfish, so don't make me a saint.
I haven't exactly been altruistic here.

I would never accuse you of that, sir.

Condescending now... always a favorite...

And just who do you think I got it from?

Irreverant too. I'm gonna miss you.

Now you're just trying to make me feel bad.

Not intentionally. Force of habit.

Looking around.

I have always liked coming here, you know.

I do know. This is also where we met.
It seems like ages ago, actu'lly...

So much has happened to us both since then.

And you got the better end of that deal.

You say that, but it's you who will live on.

I am not that gullible anymore.
All I've ever been is a photograph...

Now that has to be the most untrue thing...
You have never been a simple photo,
And to reduce yourself to such constraints
Again undermines the sheer potential
That meeting you will mean to anyone.
I know my life has been better with you
Than I can imagine the same without.

Impending doom is making you sappy.

Impending doom in making you orn'ry.

And you're not going down alone, you shit.

Some things are just not under my control...
I know, hard to believe... hard to admit.
But I don't think you should be so worried.
If anything I shall be remembered
Because of you, not the other way 'round.

And I am grateful for everything...
But you know my future ends with you, too.

No. You don't belong to me anymore,
And you will live on without me, I swear.
I'm not the only one who loves you, now.

I wish I was real... that this, now, was real...

So you want to be sitting here dying?

I am sitting here dying. Just like you.

I may have reduced your life to a page,
But you live when ever someone reads it.
Me? The only reason they know my name,
Is because it was I who put you there.
Trust there are more favorite characters
Out in the world than there are writers,
And those characters shall always live on
Because real characters are real people;
We writers will always be just a name.

Maybe to the people you give me to,
But not to me! Never to me! I swear.
Nobody will ever love you like me.

And nobody can e'er love you like me,
But one thing I know is the world's better
Having you, than it e'er was having me.

But I am only here because of you.

And will be here long after I am gone.
One thing I have learned in all my time here
Is that writers inspire other writers.
It's the characters who inspire people,
And I wish for nothing more for you
Than to be the person you've shown me you are.
You will not die with me, nor did you live;
I watched and laughed with my pen in hand,
As you did what I merely recorded.
You have been with me for such a long time,
And I have never had a better friend,
Nor could I e'er dream of a deeper love
Than that which would share you with the whole world.

What if I never wanted the whole world?

You'd not have introduced yourself to me.
But come, my dearest friend, let's not bicker.
I did not seek you out to fight with you.

You didn't seek me out at all, my friend.
You are a writer, and would die alone,
You miserable old lout; you scoundrel.
It is fortunate I love you too much
To allow such a narccisitic act.
I refuse to allow you to die alone.

And yet you will die with me, as you said.

Some things cannot be changed, even by you.
I would die either way; here or elsewhere.
This is where I met you for the first time;
It seems fitting that here we should part.

If it's not too awkward to speak the truth;
There is no one else I'd rather die with;
No one else I've ever loved half so much.

I hope your creator feels the same way
For you as you do about me, dear friend.

If I do have one, we have never met.
But there is one thing I can promise you:
I am not your creator; ne'er have been.
I found you, and our relationship grew
Not because I created it from dust,
But because you exist outside of me,
Just as any other person does.
And, even if I were your creator,
You'll continue to exist without me,
Even as I exist without him.
Every time someone turns to page one,
They will discover this wonderful you.
And you shall live, even as I have lived,
While I shall die, even as god has died.

Now you're just being overly dramatic.

I'm dying, I thought drama was allowed.

I will die with you. The pages aren't me;
They are a mem'ry, your mem'ry, of me.

There you are wrong. They are only the start.
The reader will take you places I never could.
No, you have much life still ahead, my friend,
And I am not necessary for that.
You will live on. Only I die today.

Think I feel sorry for your creator
Because he never introduced himself;
He deprived you of the chance you've given me...

My life is like the one yours will become.
If there was a creator, he has passed,
And this life was carried on by others.
People are each other's readers, you see,
Continually giving birth to each other...
We carry our own pages where e'er we go,
And we read each other's books as they come.
But ev'ry book finds its ending sometime,
And now it's time I put my pages down.

Will I remember you after you've gone?

I don't know, but neither will you need to;
I'll always be a part of you, my friend.
Like the stars themselves live on in me,
So will I always live on within you.