Synecdoche, New York Page #9

I've ever heard.

Oh, God. Sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry.

Where is my little girl?

Where is my little girl?

Where is my little girl?

Look at the night table

for a note from Adele.

Stare out the window.

Remember the time she got you

to pose for one of her paintings?

How she told you

how beautiful you were?

How she made you feel pretty again

for a little while?

Think how you'll miss her.

Stand up.

Now it is waiting, and nobody cares.

And when your wait is over,

this room will still exist...

...and it will continue to hold shoes

and dresses and boxes...

...and maybe someday

another waiting person.

And maybe not.

The room doesn't care either.

Hello?

There's nobody running the elevator

anymore.

What was once before you,

an exciting and mysterious future...

...is now behind you,

lived, understood, disappointing.

You realize you are not special.

You have struggled into existence

and are now slipping silently out of it.

This is everyone's experience.

Every single one.

The specifics hardly matter.

Everyone is everyone.

So you are Adele...

...Hazel, claire, Olive.

You are Ellen.

All her meager sadnesses are yours.

All her loneliness.

The gray, straw-like hair.

Her red, raw hands. It's yours.

It is time for you to understand this.

Walk.

As the people who adore you

stop adoring you...

...as they die, as they move on...

...as you shed them, as you shed

your beauty, your youth...

...as the world forgets you,

as you recognize your transience...

...as you begin to lose

your characteristics one by one...

...as you learn

there is no one watching you...

...and there never was,

you think only about driving.

Not coming from anyplace,

not arriving anyplace...

...just driving, counting off time.

Now you are here. It's 7:43.

Now you are here. It's 7:44.

Now you are gone.

Where is everybody?

Mostly dead. Some have left.

Would you sit with me for a moment?

Because I'm very tired and lonely.

I feel like I know you.

Well, I was the mother

in Ellen's dream.

Yes.

You seem a bit older

than I remember.

That dream was quite a while ago.

Apologize.

I didn't mean to say you looked old.

There's everyone's dreams

in all those apartments.

All those thoughts I'll never know.

That's the truth of it.

I wanted to do that picnic

with my daughter.

I feel like

I've disappointed you terribly.

Oh, no. I am so proud of you.

Ask her if you can put your head

on her shoulder.

Can I lay my head

on your shoulder?

Yes.

I love you.

I love you too.

I know how to do this play now.

I have an idea.

I think if everyone...

Die.

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