THESE AWFUL DREAMS

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

There was a train
The train was moving
Moving fast
Then abruptly stops
I am now on the platform
Next is my mother, (deceased) coming off
"There is a big gap between the train and the platform, please be careful."
I warn my mother

Then comes out my young niece
Then another niece
We have arrived somewhere
It seems like we are in USA
The platform seems like one of those in small cities of USA
Desolate, narrow, with strangers....
And lots of luggage

But we don't have any luggage
It seems that way
'Where are we heading to?"
We have no idea
The dream doesn't give us that chance
It ends abruptly.....

Or it changes scenery

Now I am at an audition
There are many rooms
I think its an ad agency
I have a photo and resume
They don't pay any attention
Very formal
Many men
Many rooms
Many people

Women walking around
Men walking around
I am done
I leave
Never hear from them
Time passes

Then one day they call me for a job.I am thrilled
Telling everyone, "Oh! that big ad agency called me"
"Oh! I got a job with the big ad agency>" I am shouting
Like a beggar we are happy to collect some crumbs from the prosperous floors

A man in black encounters me
There are many rooms
There are many men
The man in black instructs me

Give a pair of scissors
'Is it a scissor commercial?"
I wonder
Then he gives me a folded sheet, pink in color
Then another sheet, blue in color

Then shows me a photo
In the photo there are many people, mostly men
In the middle of the photo is a man wearing pink
'This is the man you will stab withe scissots."
The man in black instructs me
'Stab?"
I say
'Yes, he says."

These scissors must be a prop.  " I think
But scissors are for real.
Then another big man gives me a bowl full of some thing very dark in it to hold.
'How am I going to be able to stab some one with my hands so full
I put everything down but the scissors.

Now all those men seem like big MAFIA MEN
Now the big long tables are being laid out withe lots of food on them.
I am very hungry
But no one offers me food.
I am still carrying the scissors.
Another man replaces my scissors
Te first pair had some pink color in them
The new pair is shining white

I don't like the second pair
'It would be much easier to stab the man withe the first pair."
I think out loud.
My hand had a better grip on the first pair

'The train is on Mulberry street."
They keep announcing the subway stops
The man I am going to stab is on the subway
'How am I going to kill him while he is riding in a subway car
And I am in this so called ad agency>?
I ask myself
Maybe the man will come here after he gets off the subway

But in my dream its very clear that I have to stab him withe new pair of shining scissors
in the subway car....
So maybe I am already in the subway car?
Maybe this is the train my mother and my nieces came off from
And I am still there and being given a task of a murderer
Maybe I never came off the train....
Only they did...my family...
I am still in danger
But this is a job, I think....
Am I not some kind of an actress?
But this seems real
I haven't acted for a long time....

In the dream I am suppose to kill some poor fellow
with the scissors while he is sitting in the middle of some strangers
in a fast moving train while I am in a strange room with very strange and dangerous men.....

But why my mother was in that very train in which I am going to kill some one?
And my poor mother who is dead will have to see her  respectful daughter committing a crime?
But thank god my mother is dead...................
She won't have to see her daughter's demise...............
But why did I see her coming off the train?
Because she must have come off........
I saw her
I was already on the platform.........................
Then we were ready to go somewhere...........
Somewhere...with my mother and my nieces............
Somewhere nice and eat some good lunch..........
Since I was starving in the dream
And no one offered me any food
While there was so much food in the room.........
So much food............
And no one offered me.................
I must be in USA
In USA no one offers any food to any one
They just keep eating....
They paid for it
They are the only one who will eat that food............
Back home we gave a lot of food to strangers when they were hungry..............

I was for sure not at home.............
I came off the train on a desolate platform in USA.......................

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

ITS LATE IN THE DAY NOW
I HAVE FORGOTTEN MOST OF MY DREAM

But it was very dramatic
And I thought that I would quickly write it down
But alas!

This and that hapened
And it all evaporated
But it was something like this...

My elder sister was there
And then there was a beautiful young boy
Maybe her grandson
And we were having a wonderful time
Laughing and eating and chatting away
Mostly gossip....
Bad mouthing other people and relatives

And it was getting quite dark
And I wanted to take that little boy out
And my sister was totally against it
Because it was dark and gloomy outside
But that was the reason that I wanted to take us outside

I knew it was going to get gloomy inside as well....
It always happens in my dreams
Dark and depressing...
More and more now

People say, "You are getting old now."
"Oh! my dreams are getting dark and gloomy because I am getting old now?"
:Yes, they say."

People are nasty and un-happy
So they want to make others un-happy to ease their misery

"I am getting these heavy looking bags under my eyes."
I said to a woman I know
(Women are usually more nasty then men)
"Because you are getting old."
She said
'I fell down"
I said
"Because you are getting old."
She said
'I have no friends."
I said
"Because you are getting old."
She said.
"You have mentioned the word, "OLD" three times by now
in a very short breath of the time....
I asid
Walked away....
I have walked away from so many people after their rude remarks so often....
But I digress....

We were having a dream and there was a beautiful young boy in it
How come these nasty creatures, these unhappy women making un-pleasant comments came in?
Who knows...

But in the dream I took the young boy out
And he didn't seem so very young any more...

I mean young but not three years ...
He was now a great looking 12 or 13 year old
And a a dangerous looking, lecherous man wanted to kidnap
him....

And I was so frightened and so was the boy...
And the dangerous man forced us into dark alleys
and gutters and horribly deserted places and we screamed and screamed
For help and no one heard us and I was so scared of this man as well of my sister...

What am I going to tell her if god forbid I lose her son.....
My fear was ominous and complete
And I wanted to run and run and run but I couldn't...........
And I have forgotten the rest....

Thank god because the ending was not good
No, not good at all



.....

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

She was thereMy other sister
Qamar....

Young and beautiful
We were traveling somewhere
The night came
We had no night pyjamas

She opened her suitcase
She had night clothes for all of us
How thoughtful"  I said in my dream
'You knew everyone's size?"
"Yup" she said
"Its not so tough to know every one's size"
She said
"Weren't we born together?" she said

'Doesn't matter"  I said
'People forget."
'People forget everything"
'No love left, no affection left any more."

"Not with us"
She said
;Not with us."
"We will  be forever together and love each other"
She said.....

Then I woke up,,,,
We haven't heard from each other for years...
No one calls, no one cares.....
No one...........

Then I went to the bath room to pee
I am getting up often in the middle of the night to go pee........
And the pee comes like a rain storm...
Keep going...keep going
'Wow! I say...
'Who knew I had so much piss in me?"

Then I slept again
Thank god...
Because once I am up I can't go back to sleep

Then I dreamt another dream....
What was it?
What was it?
I can't remember
Can't remember at all..........
Not one image
None.....
But I swear I dreamt another dream....
I swear...
Can't remember.....................

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

it was me and Haroona
My sister....
And some one yelled,
"So and so is coming."

And we were always terrified of that name
And we ducked under the sink to hide
We were in some one else's room or house in South of France
And we felt that now we will have to go back without seeing nothing
And having no fun at all

Ten we were hidden in a car and some one was driving
And we were told that the driver was the one we were afraid of
And then we were much more afraid
Ten all of a sudden the driver turned his face towards us
And we were told that the driver wasn't the person we were afraid of....

And were being played upon again and again
And we were being frightened again and again
By some un-seen force and by some un-seen people
And then we were told that we can stay a little longer
And we were offered their place
The place where we have been very frightened.....

This was a second dream after I woke up and went to pee....
Before I went to pee was another dream

It was like we were rehearsing a play
There were lots of men in the group
Big men, Tall men, fat men wit bulging stomachs
They were part of a group but behaved as if they were
There on their own socializing in small little groups

They were always chatting amongst themselves And never sat in a circle facing me
I could not get their attention
They never shut up and never became one as a group
I tried so many times to get their attention
We had to start the rehearsal
The time was passing
The rehearsal room was booked for some particular time
And was given to someone else for another play

But the fat men chatted away
"Could we stop talking and begin?"
I said again and again but they won't hear me
They hardly ever noticed me
'Are they my actors?"
I desperately asked myself again and again
'And if they are, how come they are not listening to me?"
THEY WERE ACTUALLY NOT EVEN AWARE OF ME

But for sure in the dream we were supposed to rehearse
a play.....
And for sure in my dream it was my play
And for sure in my dream those were my actors
Those fat slobs
Those nonsense filled fat slobs were my actors
I was so ashamed in my dream.................
Te play never happened
Because it was never rehearsed
And then the time was up....................

Such a delight when printer is working without givig me tons of stress

A DREAM A DAY
A.K.A
WHILE BEING AWAKE
A
NEW PLAY
BY
BINA SHARIF

OPENS AT THEATER FOR THE NEW CITY
DECEMBER 1----21-2016

WHILE BEING AWAKE

Went to Tarraluchi

read Albert Camus's myth of Syssiphis

Had a spinach salad with orange slices and blue berries

with lemon dressing

'Art and nothing but art." Thats what Nietzsche said

'Without culture society would be a jungle"  'So any esthetic creation

is a gift for the future."  Camus said

Really enjoyed whatever I read.

This book I found in the street.

Some of the best books I have were found in the street

One time long time ago at night time I was walking

on Ave A and a nice black man, (Homeless) was selling books-on the street

and he called after me, "Miss this book is meant for you."'  He said

I came back and he was holding a small paper-cover in his hand

And it was, "Paris Spleen" by Boudalaire

I was aware of him and haven't read much of his work except some

parts of ,"Flowers of evil."

I decided to buy the book.

It was only one dollar

But he refused to take the money from me.

'This book is meant for you, take it as a gift."  He said

I will never forget it.

I wonder why he thought that this particular book was meant for me?

Maybe he knew that I was a poet

Or that I was interested in poetry

Or maybe he knew that I was an artist like him

After all I have been walking on Ave A and B for so very long time

I was just like him

Kind of homeless, contryless, friends-less, out of all elite groups

Walking alone always, always on the Avenues of America....

Which kind of trapped me and never let me go...

Now when I think of leaving I just fall down on the pavement and gets taken to

the emergency room instead of going back where once I also had a home

and parents and neighbors and friends and education and appreciation of that

education....

Now I am out of all kinds of grouping....

They categorize you here....

Asian, White, Black, Brown, Orange, Green, Yellow...

Gay, Lesbian, Straight, Christian, Catholic, Mormon, Buddhist, MUSLIM (And thats where the trouble lies)

The most shunned and hated group of them all....

I was watching the BBC news the other day and the news was...

"That Muslim women are the most hated and unemployed...

Incredible racism and prejudice exists against them."  The report said...

'Because they are women, Ethnic and mostly because of being  Muslim."  The announcer said....

What else is new?  I said to myself...

Every body hates Muslims now.

I went to the ground Zero the other day

I have never been there before

There were tons of tourists there and I know what all of them wee thinking...

"Look what Muslims did to us, our buildings and killed ruthlessly our innocent people."

I don't blame them

Its all true....

But still I didn't do that....

I felt so ashamed and guilty and siad to my husband..

'No wonder they hate muslims,"

So do you think after all that a muslim woman is going to have any friends in NYC?

My phone never ring

I see no one

No one comes knocking at my door.....

When I apply for any thing, a submission of any art work or a script

It has to be under the headline, "ASIAN" " SOUTH ASIAN"

They still reject me...

And reject me constantly and persistently...

Perhaps they think that I am a tall blond Swede Asian or not Asian at all just an alien of some kind.... and doesn't fit in the South Asian format or any format.
I was watching tv one day, (I am watching a lot of t right now because I have a fracture of my elbow...
fell down on the most immaculate foot path of this first world democracy where the construction of un-limited condos and the broken roads and pavements for sure seems like that one is in a third world country and trust me I know how the third world country's roads look, I am from the third world country and I am still in the third world country, I am not a lesbian so thats another third world thing...
'How dare you not be gay?"  'How come you want to be considered popular?"
"How come you want a gay critic come to yor straight man and a woman drama and give you a review?"
You are boring, yor gender is boring, your sexuality is boring, your religion is boring...not even boring, dangerous, dangerous....
Ok, stay home and sulk.
Let others eat the cake
Its a first world cake
Baked in the first world, white and yelling and screaming and hating every one else.....

They hate Trump
Oh! man do they hate Trump
What interests me about Trump is that how America hates him
Not only America hates him but the world hates him

Everywhere in this wide world people who have never even been here use the same words to hate him, the same exact words which the NYT uses and MSNBC and CNN uses....
This is how the world feels accepted by America
To talk the same exact way the majority talks....
No opinion of your own
Good or bad...
No opinion.
I watch Fox
I never used to
But now I do
Just to hear a word or two against Hillary
Afterall she can't be such an angel
No human being is an angel
Not her for sure
Neither her nor Trump

But you see no one ever say one good thing about Trump
Not one good thing
Afterall he won te primary
No one talks about that
No no one....

He never got in the club....
The club of politically correct elite intellectuals...
I just like to hear the story from both sides
The opposite point of view
One learns something from even the right wing and conservatives and the democrats
Why should one not open one's mind about the opposition?
Isn't this country about debate?
Freedom of speech...

BUt what I learned fromw atching all these channels is that if you don'twant some one for whatever reason, you are not going to let that person eneter your club and you are never going to say any thing good about that person no matter what, no matter how much that person might have achieved, no matter how many good things and bad things that person might have, you are always going to talk about the bad things about that person.

This is how you create an opinion in the world.
Now they all say that Trump hate Muslims.
But the bottom line is that everyone hates Muslims esoecially right now.
Hillary doesn't love Muslims
No way
No one does
They just keep their mouths shut
Thats all...
When the time comes they will go and kill all of them an the next war....

Hipocracy might be the name of this republic, not democracy...
And every one n this planet is racist about one thing or the other
But they just love to call the other the racist....

One day I was watching tv as usual and Danny De-Vito that funny actor from the tv show, TAXI
said to the rest of the panel people, (I don't remeber who else wa on the panel)  Mr> Devito said,
"Hey come n guys, the whole country is racist."

Since then other people's racism towatrds me doesn't bother me....
I learned from Mr. De Vito very fast that the whole country is racist.
Actually he forgot to say that the whole world is racists....

And as a wonderful playwright from Trinidad, Mustapha Matura who has lived in England for a long time said, " Racists by now must know that they are racists so I don't have to refer to whatever they say as racism."

When one is dark and one is little old and one is ethnic and one is from a country which is not popular and one is from a religion which is not popular and one's sexuality and gender is not popular
one expect to be liked ?

Come on wake up....Is this  another awful dream of yours or are you already awake?

'Oh! I see I am awake...fully awake...The title of this monologue or eassay or giberish, (Mostly giberish...thats what the mainstream would say to dismiss it ) IS WHILE BEING AWAKE....

OH! REALLY?
WAS THAT THE TITLE OF YOUR SRIBLE?
YES...
IT WAS CALLED, "WHILE BEING AWAKE...."

'Don't worry darlings, I don't fit in any format."

'Not your fault, never your fault, fault is all mine.

"DON"T YOU WORRY SWEETHEARTS."

'YOU ARE SO DEMOCRATIC PTESERVING THE HUMAN RIGHTS AND JUSTICE FOR ALL....

Right....

Black lives matter" didn't come in existence for no reason

Right?

Yes, right....

Go home...

Some thing tells me all the time...

"GO HOME"  "GO HOME"

Something used to whisper in my ears ad now its shouting in my ears, "GO HOME" "GO HOME"
Before its too late....

BUT ITS TOO LATE ANY WAY AND I AM HOMELESS LIKE THE HOMELESS MAN WHO GAVE ME A GIFT, 'PARIS SPLEEN BY BOUDALAIRE....

Now I have most of Boudalaire's books and I cherish them...

Thank god for books....

All-the dead writers are my friends....

I have so many friends

So many great people are dead....

The living are all screaming, killing, stealing, hurting, abusing others.........

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

I dreamt all night
Awful dreams
I have now forgotten
Maybe thats good.
There were dark clouds
I was screaming
I am always screaming in my dreams
Which are more like nightmares of the soul


Some time I can't scream
Because the fear of whatever is going on is too great
I feel paralysed
And when I wake up
I still can't move for a long while
But relieved that It was just a dream

But these occuranes are so frequent
That I feel I am fiull of some kind of terror
Terror of the soul.
Some trauma must have happened long ago
Some trauma must be happening all the time

I am nothing but full of trauma
I never knew how to live my life
Always trying to please
Please the people I love
People I care for.
I hardly ever try to please myself
I must not care for my self
I must not love my self
Maybe thats the trauma which haunts me during my awful reams

I never knew that I have that need
The need to make people, people I care for and some time don't care for,  happy
That's even worst...
I have some kind of fear of people.
They frighten me
So I have to please them so they won't frighten me any more....
But the more I try to please them
The more they frighten me....

People must sense that I am afraid of them
That's the reason they are aggressive
They are very aggressive
Paeople I know are extremely aggressive
Business people, strangers, friends

Now I don't see any one
No friends
None
Imagine that
Lived here for ages
And have no friends
NONE

My phone never rings
And when It does
I know its my brother or niece or my husband or my sister from abroad.
No call comes in from NY
No friends
NONE

Maybe its good not to see them

People for me are trouble
I never knew how to deal with them
I was always polite
They took it for timidity
I wasn't passive
But I wasn't aggressive enough
And I am in NYC
The only way I could deal with most of the people was not to see them.

Now I don't see any one.
I don't know if its healthy or not
But their un-gracious behavior wasn't very healthy for me either.
Maybe it was all my fault
Of course it was....
I never knew how
to deal with people...
And other people's kindness
I guess every one is just a nice person
Its always my fault
So I except it.......
 Its their culture....
They can bother some one else with their sense of importance and business skills
They were always busy and arrogant....
I wonder how busy they were!
All fake, all self importance
All disrespect for other people's kindness...
There is a cultural difference as well
We were taught to be polite, kind, sophisticated
They were taught to be aggressive, condescending, rude, selfish and non caring....

People must not leave their homes and their culture...
You will always be misunderstood
You will always be lonely
You will always be treated as less than who you are....
Its a sad thing to stick around after all that.
There is no where to go though
The old home is gone
Parents deceased...............
Accumulation of poverty of circumstances...........
All  is in the awful dreams
The deams I dream every night
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night................

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

Every thing had been stolen
No idea who the thief was
Got tired of the whole scenario
Wanted to catch the thief

I put the most expensive stuff..
Jewelery etc, (In my real life I have no diamonds)
 In the dream I had tons of extremely pricey ornaments
Pearl neklaces
Diamond bracelets
Rings loadd with rubies
And many other things

I got so tired of discovering every morning
that the things have been disappearing
Some one seems to know everything about my safe and secret places
Not so secret any more....

 Since I wake up a lot from these horrifying dreams
When some one is chasing me
Or trying to kill me
Or I am stark naked
And can't find any clothes
Or being trapped, (The usual dreams motif)

I thought when I am awake in the middle of these horrifying
cenarios, I will catch the thief
Because he/she or trans will be taking things out
Of my secret drawers I would take my pistol out and stand right behind him/her/trans
and shoot the son  of a gun or the daughter or trance withe my
pistol, (Since they didn't pass the gun control law)
I am sure I would have been able to have my gun handy to shoot and kill
The thief of the night....

So I put all my valuables in a plastic bag, (imagine that)
 All things with diamonds and in plastic
And put them right outside the secret place and tried to go back to sleep
Luckily or I guess un-luckily I slept for a while
And when I woke up, (Instead of catching the mighty thief
I realized to my horror that all the jewels in the plastic bag were gone

Rushed out of the dooor in a frantic manner...
There was some one else with me in my frantic state of affairs
But who was the person?  I have no recollection
I am usually so alone in the busy NY with millions of people that
I would never expect any one living with me or visiting me
Except the thief or thieves....
I do have thieves in my life
People have stolen my time
I let them
Its not their fault
I let them steal my time

While people were busy working and making money
I was calling them
Visiting them
Trying to tell them what I was doing, what I was writing
Then they would go home and steal my Ideas and my actual scripts
Change the names of the characters and put it in pdf files
THEY KNOW HOW TO PUT SCRIPTS ON PDF FILES
I AM THE ONLY IDIOT AND A USELESS PERSON
LIVING IN THIS DIGITAL AGE....

I LET PEOPLE STEAL MY TIME
Like I was letting the thief steal my jewels....
The empty plastic bag was sitting on top of the garbage....
How stupid and naive can you be to trust a thief...
My mouth was open with horror looking at the empty plastic bag
It was of silver cover without the silver and gold and diamonds in it....
The person with me was also aghast
And started to blame me....

Every one blames me for everything
In this situation of course it was my fault but doesn't matter
Every one blames me for everything which happens in the big wide world...

All my fault
My stupidity, me not knowing, my lack of ability and interest in cyber space
all my scripts, (Hard copies)  who has hard copies these days
Everything is on pdf files and published
Published, every damn words the mediocre influentiel, politically correct
Ass kissers scribbled is PUBLISHED

They are published writers.
They are so Important
Of course they are Important
They are published
They must be good.
They have the right nams
Right religion
Right gender orientation

You are living in the great democracy of the world
You have to be in the team and play the game
Say, whatever they want you to say
Write whatever they want you to write
Kiss ass
I said, "KIss ass"
"No.  "DON'T KISS YOUR ASS"
"FIRST OF ALL YOU CAN'T KISS IT AND SECONDLY
HOW IMPORTANT IS YOUR ASS?"

"KISS IMPORTANT ASS" and you will be
published and the hard copies will be shredded and thrown away
or be archived and bought by an Important University here
So they will be out of your apt....

Right now the only thing which is out of your apt is your diamonds
You silly, stupid, naive, Idiotic,  mideval imbecile....

Instead of throwing the fucking unpublished
dusty scripts out...
You threw your diamonds out....
How retarded....

"I didn't throw my diamonds out, they were stolen"
"Stolen by you?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you"

"You are the thief.  Your stupidity, your lack of respect for your property
your time, your dignity,  your selflessness,  your village behavior, you
ethnic cunt.....

'Why do you fucking live here if you can't live like one of them?"
"Lock everything up, lock your possessions, lock your time and sit there wide awake day
and night with a gun and shoot all the mother fuckers who try to steal from you....
but the problem is that its you who steals from yourself...

Yes, you, you stole your diamonds, your talent, your time, yes that precious time
which never comes back, which is your life force, you put your valuable talent
out in a garbage bag and threw it away with your TIME...YOUR TIME HONEY

YOU WASTED YOUR TIME,
YOU WASTED YOUR ABILITY, YOUR TALENT, YOUR ART
ON USELESS PEOPLE, THIEVES OF THE DAY,
YES THEY WERE THIEVES OF YOUR DAYS AND
YOU HANDED EVERYTHING OF VALUE TO THEM FREE OF CHARGE....
YOU GAVE IT TO THEM...
YOU NEGLECTED YOUR TALENT, YOUR VALUABLE TIME.....
ON USELESS CHORES, ON USELESS, THE MOST USELESS AND SELFISH AND NON TALENTED PEOPLE....YOU GAVE AWAY YOUR TIME LIKE YOUR JEWELS
TO THIEVES WILLINGLY......
NOW YOU ARE CRYING....
BUT YOU ARE CRYING OVER SPILLED MILK....
NOTHING YOU GAVE AWAY WILL NEVER EVER COME BACK...
NEVER.....

YOU STOLE FROM YOURSELF...
YOU ARE THE THIEF OF THE NIGHT
YOU ARE THE THIEF OF THE DAY
YOUR VALUABLE DAYS
NOW GONE.....
YOU WERE THE THIEF
THATS WHY YOU COULDN'T CATCH THE THIEF......
THATS WHY...
THATS WHY.....
THATS WHY....

Then I woke up with a jolt....
No jewels were stolen
I didn't have any
Just my time was stolen...
Just my time....
I put my time in a plastic bag to be stolen
And I discovered the empty plastic bag on the heap f garbage in the streets

MAY TIME HAD GONE...........................

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

Its actually a dream I am dreaming while being awake
I opened a pandora's box
And now I can't put evverything back in there
It won't fit
I WONDER WHY NOT?

All those things came out of that box
But refuse to go back in there
No space.
Literally,
 there is no space

But how come?
Has the pandora's box shrunk?
It looks exactly the same
With dust on it
Thats the only difference

Before I hid it, It was shining
Now its black and blue
But thats the surface
Inside of it
It has become much smaller
I can't put those things which came out of it back

What came out of it is totally scary

Letters, phone numbers of people I neber called
Forgot to call...
But saved i case...
Those people and their phone numbers must be important
Why would I save them otherwise?
NOW I HAVE NO FRIENDS
NOW I WANT TO REACH OUT TO THEM
BUT I DON'T REMEMBER WHO THEY ARE AND HOW I MET THEM?

Some numbers are from foreign countries
Berlin, London, france, Brazil

Seems like I have travelled much
But maybe I only met them in NY
I DON'T REMEMBER
iINEVER THOUGHT THAT i WILL EVER SAY THIESE WORDS
"I DON'T REMEMBER"

My memory was photographic...
But now I don't know whether I throw everything out or not?
In order for me to throw things out I have to look at them
And thats been taking hours upon hours and days upon days
Its not a piece of furnitur
That you look at it and instantly decide to throw it out
Its stuff...private, personal, some not so personal but sti;l under lock and key
Saved up for a rainy day

But now is the rainy day
Rainy days and rainy nights
lIVING ERE FOR ALMOST 40 YEARS AND THE PHONE NEVER RINGS
I guess its a rainy day
And a rainy night
People are busy worried about the rain
And keeping themselves dry

They are for sure dry
Their affection if there is any is dry
Their love, if there is any is dry
Their lies of always, 'being busy"
Is dry

But its amazing how one pick up the bad behavior and bad habits of others
'Now I always say, "HAVE BEEN SO BUSY."
This sentence is so awful but takes care of things.
No one can disputre you on this and you keep walking away from
Humanity if there us any humanity left at all
And then sits allalone and sips some luke warm coffe
You can't complain about the coffee either
Its not polite
But its very polite on the owner's part to take five dollars for coffee with tip and tax but
never giving you waht you enjoy.

Life is built like that.
Keep a fake smile and do not make vibes and keep saying
"Have been so busy,"
Yes, I am very busy right now
Trying to put some order into the disoredrly apt
Actually even me was so busy writing, directing, producing plays and acting in them as well
 There was not a moment to take care of anything else.
34 plays so far and counting
That should be considered, "Being busy"
Right?

But I still was social, was happy to see friends
Happy to talk, laugh, cry over the ways of the world.
I always thought it was extremely rude to say to people who come to
You from across the street with a smile on their face, genuine smile some times and
Say to them abruptly, "OH! I am so busy." Can't spend a second with you.

It was a good busy for me.
After writing the whole day I seeked people and friends in the evening to have a chat
I come from chattering classes
Democracy or no democracy in our country back home,
EWe  laughed a lot and talked a lot and ate a lot and sat in the sun a lot and sat on the
Green grass a lot....

This ,"DEMOCRACY" Is very lonely.  Alone, alone, alone...
Reda a book, good, enjoyable
ave a coffe, Good, enjoyable
Walk around the same Avenue...not so enjoyable...
But no conversation, no debate...nothing

All talks, even if you do talk at all are not deep and not interesting and are opioninated...
Talk to  democrat...he/she htes Trump
Talk to a republican. he/she hates Hillary
The end.....

World is bigger than Hillary and Trump...
This democracy doesn't want to deal with the world
And thts a problem
Thats a real problem.
Everything is related to everything else.
Nothing happens out of a Vaccum
Horrible events happen
Their is grief, sorrow, outrage till it dies down
Then something else happens
Then the rage and anger shifts to wards some thing else, some one else...
Then it dies down

No debate, no conversation, no solution.
Presidents come and go
The problems stay
Most of the time the same problems.
How many presidents here have the Issue with gun control?
How many people have died?
Is the Issue solved?

The same kind of lack of solutions happens in everyday life with people and friends
If there is something wrong between two friends or people in general
They would rather silently go away...instead of airing the issue which is upseting them...
They would rather not pick up the phone....

Icredible power of technology....
YOUR NAME APPEARS ON THE CELL PHONE
THEY LOOK AT IT
THEY DECIDE NOT TO ANSWER.
THEY KNOW WHO IS CALLING
THE CALLER ALSO KNOW THAT THE PERSON THEY JUST CALLED
LOOKED AT THEIR NAME AND DECIDED NOT TO ANSWER.

How sad that is for the power  oriented receiver and the caller who might
love this person or has something to share or is lonely or want to go have coffee withe the person he/she just called....

ll good intentions on the part of the caller....
The one who doesn't pick up....
I wonder how to describe that persion?
Busy?
Perhaps
Don't feel like talking?
Perhaps
Angry at you?
Perhaps
But you would never know
Would you?
After a while if you have any integrity left you won't call...
Would you?
If you did
You would be considerd needy....

Remember you are in a Western democracy.....
You are not in a thirld world country
Where you have time avaialble and since you are so downtrodden that you
laugh a lot to survive the pain of poverty and everything else
So you get together and eat and laugh and have some fun

But here the function seems like two folds... or three folds...
"POWER" PLEASURE" PROPERTY"  MARKET VALUES LIKE HAROLD PINTER SAID...

And those people's pleasure is not shared with ordinary struggling folks.
Its with other people of power and property.

Laughter belongs to the power and property here...........

Not to pick up your phone call when they think not only that you don't have power and property but you will never have in the future.

You got it all wrong in my case.....
I HAVE POWER.
I AM MASHALLAH STRONG
I HAVE WITHE THE BLESSING OF GOD DONE EVERYTHING ALONE
WITH NO ONE'S HELP.  NO ONE.  I SAY LOUD AND CLEAR.
I HAVE WORDS IN MY POSSESSION.
MANY WORDS
WHICH MADE PAGES AND PAGES OF MY HAND WRITTEN PLAYS....

AND ITS THE WRITING WHICH HAS FILLED MY APT...
ITS THAT PENDOR'S BOX I AM TALKING ABOUT.
ITS SO MUCH WRITING THAT I DON'T BELIEVE THAT I SINGLE HANDEDLY DID IT....
NOW ITS BECOME IMPOSSIBLE TO KEEP IN THE APT...
THERE IS LITERALLY NO SPACE LEFT.
BOOKS, WRITING AND MY ART WORK.....
FILLS MY APARTMENT

AND I STILL HAD AND HAVE TIME TO CALL PEOPLE WHO DO NOT PICK UP.....
ACTUALLY I DON'T DO THAT ANY MORE BECAUSE I DON'T LOVE THOSE PEOPLE ANY MORE
BUT ONCE I DID.....
WHY WOULD I CALL OTHERWISE?
THEY ARE SO UN-FORTUNATE...
THEY LOST MY LOVE
AND MY FRIENDSHIP....

I WOULD READ MANY KINDS OF BOOKS AND THEN TELL THEM IN DETAIL
ABOUT WHAT THE AUTHORS SAID...
I EDUCATED PEOPLE UN-KNOWINGLY....

UT I NEVER PAID MUCH ATTENTION TO THE STUFF ACCUMULATING IN MY PLACE....

LAST MONTH I DECIDED TO DO THAT.
ITS UN=BELIEVAC=BLE.
IF ONE NED ANY HELP BY ANY ONE ITS ABOUT CLEANING AND ORGANIZING AND REORGANIZING...
THAT ENORMOUS CHORE YOU CAN'T DO ALONE....
YOU CAN HIRE PEOPLE....
BUT WHERE IS THE MONEY?
IF YOU ONLY WROE PLAYS, YOU OBVIOUSLY DIDN'T MAKE MONEY TO PAY THE MOVERS AND PAINTERS AND CLEANERS...

AND YOU NEVER HAD ANY ONE TO HELP YPU BECAUSE YOU NEVER SHOWED ANY INTEREST....BECAUSE YOU WERE JUST WRITING...
YOU DIDN'T NEED HELP IN THAT....
BUT CLEANING AND THROWING FURNITURE OUT OF A FOURTH FLOOR APT WITH NO ELEVATOR....
PLEASE...DON'T TELL ME THAT I CAN DO IT......

BUT I HAVE REALIZED HOW WASTEFYUL AND UN-CREATIVE THIS WHOLE DAMN THING IS.....

I HAVE WRITTEN NOTHING...
I SAY NOTHING AND I AM THE PERSON WHO DID NOTHING EVERYDAY BUT WROTE, DREW AND READ...................
BUT NOTHING RIGHT NOW....

LOOKING AT THE DUSTY MESS SCATTERED ALL OVER THE PLACE DEPRESSESS ME SO MUCH THAT WITHIN AN HOUR AT THE MOST OF DOIG SOME STUFF IN THE APT I TAKE A SHOWER AS IF THE DUST OF LIFE HAS ENTERED MY BEING...I SCRUBBED MYSELF,TIP TOE, WWEAR SOME CLEAN CLOTHES AND LEAVE

THEN I SIT IN A CAFE ALONE, ALL ALONE, ALWAYS ALONE...
AND DRINK LUKE WARM COFFEE, TOO TIRED TO COMPLAIN AND THINK OF MY LIFE.................

WHAT HAPPENED TO MY LIFE?
BACK HOME THERE WILL BE FIVE STRONG MEN, HIRED HELP WILL DO EVERYTHING IN ONE OR AT THE MOST TWO DAYS...
THEY WILL WASH THE FLOORS, PUT EVERYTHING BACK IN ORDER....GET PAID, NO ATTITUDE, NO CURSING, HERE YOU CAN'T TELL THE CLEANIG LADY THAT YOU ARE DOING A LOUSY JOB...
SHE/HE WILL KILL YOU WITHE GUN SHE HAS IN HER BACKPACK...
SO YOU NEVER COMPLAIN...NEVER FOR COFFEE, NEBER FOR LUKE WARM CLEANING...OR PEOPLE NOT PICKING UP THE PHONE AND NEVER TELLING YOU WHAT'S WRONG....
YOU JUST ST ALONE AND THINK....
WHAT WAS MY PURPOSE TO COME HERE?

I GUESS TO LIVE IN A SHITTY CLUTTERED APT
TO BE ALONE....
TO WRITE PLAYS....

YES, I GUESS....
BACK HOME I WOULD HAVE HAD A GREAT CLEAN HOUSE, EVERYTHING IN ORDER, LOTS OF PEOPLE AROUND BUT NO PLAYS.............

I WONDER WHAT'S BETTER?
NOW MY OWN CREATIVITY HAS BECOME A DREAM/NIGHTMARE WHILE I AM ASLEEP AND WHILE I AM AWAKE......

PEOPLE OF THIS DEMOCRACY KEEP AQUIRING, POWER, PLEASURE AND PROPERTY.
THEY CAN AFFORD AN EASY RENOVATION....
BUT ARE THEY WRITING PLAYS?
I DON'T KNOW
I DON'T KNOW TEM
I DON'T KNOW ANY ONE HERE.........

HOW LONG HAVE I LIVED HERE?
DOES MY PHONE RINGS?
SHOULD I CALL SOME ONE?

PLEASE DON'T
HAVE SOME INTEGRITY.....BESIDE LONELINESS...............
"

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

It was high speed train
Different compartments for different class of people
I don't think that there were any poor people on the train.
It seemed extremely expensive train

Going very fast
Through blue colored mountains
Mountains and valleys
I was also on that train
I must be rich in the dream

Recently I have realized how poor I have been in
this extremely rich country of Billionairs
I went to Crate and Barrel store on Broadway and Housten St
I have never been to Crate and Barrel before...
I mean I have perhapswalked through it with some one else
Maybe my sister in Cambridge
While she was a student at Harvard

The store was in Harvard square
And we used to go to Harvard Square
 often for fun and Ice cream and bagels.
My nieces were young girls and
they fell in love with American bagels
There was a tiny bagel store in one of the little Street
and the bagels were delicious and hot, hot, hot
Just coming out of the ovens and me and my nieces
Would just drool while waiting
And putt tons of butter on them which would melt in a second
Oh! I can just taste those delicious bagels right now...

My nieces have grown into young women...
Some with kids even
Ad I can't imagine eating those butter soaked bagels any more
Got heavy, really heavy
I was a thin, skinny even...
Skinny and sexy aunt of those beautiful girls who wanted to just
spend days upon days in Harverd Square
Eating bagels, ice cream and spending hours
in those gorgeous book stores....
I would always had to drag one ofmy niece, Amna from
The children section in the evening
 so she can go home and have dinner...
She would read the whole book before leaving the store...

Some times there mother, my sister Haroona was with us also
 and we would stop at Crate and Barrel on our way back
 to Shaller lane, a beutiful tree lined street
near Charles river where they lived
She was agreat cook as well beside doing her PHD
and liked Crate and Barrel and would buy something
like a cooking knife or napkins etc etc...

I never noticed the prices any way
I have never been interested much
 in cooking or buying house hold items
And also it was years ago....
Things have gone rocket high prices
But I remember her mentioning how pricey the store was....

So now after years she, my sister Haroona is going to visit me
Here in NY and I looked at my apt and had a near heart attack
She is immaculately clean and her house is beyond
clean and in such orderly shape....

I thought at least I can buy a small
dining table where she and her husband
would be able to sit properly
 and eat something which she might cook
So I have been thinking where to go
 and look for that table and four chairs
I asked, Kevin where to go
and he said, Crate and Barrel....
So one afternoon we went there.....

I have been in NY for so long...
I don't go for shopping...
I can't
I spend whatever I have on Theater....
So I looked st some tables....
The store has tons of furniture

If you have money....I mean MONEY
Your apt can be set in one day with great sofa sets
Cocktail tables, grand beds
Bed cvers...
Sheets, pillows....
amps
Chairs
Lounge chairs
Pool tables
Pool chairs
Pichers of lemonades next to those pool chairs...

Finally we reached the section of dining tables
Some were too big for my apt
We looked for smaller tables.....
I have never felt more poor than at that moment....

I got totally depressed and despondent
Oh! my goodness...
"I AM SO POOR."
"I HAVE BEEN SO POOR."
'WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?"
"HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?"
"THIS IS MY LIFE IN AMERICA?"
"HOW COME?"
I CAN'T EVEN BUY A SMALL DINING TABLE?"

The tables were going in thousands of dollars
and the chairs...
Give me a break
One chair for $6oo
You mean for four chairs it will be $24oo?
and the table?
I can't even apprehend....

And the rest of the apt will still be so so so poor looking?
I was totally depressed for the rest of the day...
So long have I lived here and this is how my life ended up?
That was a devastating thought which lingered in my mind
All day and all night
And late at night I had this dream that I was
On a high speed expensive train
I was rich in my dream allof a sudden
How can that be?
Who paid for the ticket?
No one has ever paid me a penny for any thing
To buy a ticket to take an expensive high speed train?
You think some one will pay for me?
Impossible
I don't know any one
No one...
I have never ever even had a grant....
No strings attached grant...
Grant comes after an Obie
And I never had an Obie
The village voice critic who is incharge of an Obie
Once said in her review,
"That president Bush should put a mandate
on me to stop writing and performing"
I should have taken her to court
But I am a coward in this country...
An honest coward...
Any honest person here is considered a coward.
Rich are thieves and dishonest
Thats why they are so rich...
Thats how they go to Crte and Barrel....
Coward and poor and honest....
The worst of the worst qualities
 or defects yiu should call it to have
The worst defects to have is to be a
 COWARD, POOR AND HONEST AND HUMANIST IN THIS COUNTRY....
I AM ONLY RICH IN MY DREAM WHICH DIDN'T LAST LONG
I WOKE UP AND I WAS SWEATING....
I SWEAT WITHE IDEA OF MONEY.....
BECAUSE MOST OF THE MONEY IS STOLEN MONEY
AND OUR PARENTS TOLD US TO BE CLEAN....
YES, CLEAN AND POOR
BUT YOU SEE THEY DIDN'T KNOW
ANYTHING ABOUT AMERICA
AND HOW MONEY WORKS HERE...............

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

Its a voyage
A ship maybe/
A boat
Or a canoe

The same people are in it
I don't know those people
But I kind of know that they are the same people
People who appeared in my dream before

Some one, a friend I guess has given me some papaers
with some information on it...
And I don't know where he is gone...
I can't seem to find him
But still holding on to the papers
Thinking that they contain dangerous information

Then there are hiddin musical instruments in the ship
Once in a while some one comes, dig in and pick up a horn
Or a violen and begins to play it...
That part of the dream is a nice part

There is no food on the ship
It may not be a ship anyway
Remember that part
Ships are enormous
But this thing we are on is built like a ship
But its not big
Its not even built like a ship
But I don't know what to call it?
Its built like something
I might have seen ornot seen at all
After all its a dream
And things are not what things look like in the real life

Actually in my life the things really do not look
 like the way other people, normal people...
Describe things
The things in my life are more abstract
Symbols if you may call it
Symbyls...of life..of death..of distortion...of surrealism...

Yes, thats the word...
Surrealism
I like this word
I use it a lot in my real life.....

So the person who asked me to hold onto those papers comes back
I give him back the papers
'Whats in them?" I ask
'Nothing of importance"  He says
"They look kind of important"  I ask
"no, not really"  He says
"What does that mean?  Not really?"  I ask
"JUst papaers with some drawings on it."  He says
"What kind of drawings?"  I sak
Now I am really curious
"What kid of drawings?"
I repeat myself
'I am an artist"  He says.  "These are my drawings"
"Oh! really"  I say
I am suspicious
But that I am
In my life during the day time
I have become suspicious of everyone
Everyone I say....

Not a very good way to pass the day
But tahts how it is
Actually thats how it has become
I trust no one
No one I say
To me they are all agents
Agents of some kind
Agents of some sort

There are a few catagories
But they are all suspicious
All leaders, all politians, all journalists, all artist, all teachers, all justice people
Justice?  Thats for sure is suspicious

When you are not popular
They make up a script
And they are great in writing that script
They tell the world a story about you
That the stupid world always believe...
Then they call it, "Justice"  'Justice is done."  They say
We took care of the problem

To me every one in the world is a problem, me included
Because we are in the world and the world is a big problem
The same story over the decades and Centuries repeat itself
Just the new writers, different names, same story
There is a bad guy
and then there is a good guy

That bad guy can be a country,
A people,
A religion,
A color of skin,
A gender,

Pick one ...
And for some decades that is the bad guy
Eliminate that group and then pick another group
Write a scenario
And pick on thst group
And then destroy him..the country, the religion
And then make upanother story and pick on another bad guy....
Ad thats how it goes
Thats how it goes.

The good guy have great writers
They write a script
Very ominous, very scary
People believe that fiction to take care of their fear
And the good guy is allowed to do whatever
 to eliminate that fear till a new fear is introduced
And the same story with different names,
 different localas and different interests surfaces....

Thats my real life...
You call it paranoia
But I don't care
Do I care what you call it?
I don't....

Maybe I have become a sick person
But I do live in the world which is much sicker thatn me...
If the world was good, kind, humble, without evil, without killings
Would I be dreaming the same kind of
scary, deadly dreams night after night after night?

"Oh! its my fault."
'Oh! I see....Its my fault...my dream is my fault....
Yes, you are right, my birth is also my fault...
Off course according to you, biggots, we should have never been born
So you would then have a snowy White Christmas...
With everything pink and white and pure and nice
And then you would have to get rid of your script writers
and all your liberals shouting and
your conservatives shouting all the time....

They don't even get a fucking sour throat....
We, the poor slobs have one loud arguments withe biggots
and racists of the world and lose our voice completely
We can't talk for a month....

I guess the liberals on Tv and conservatives on tv all have trained voices...
They are all opera singers....
We need to train our voices if we talk about any kind of justice or truth....
But no way...
The big shots are happy if we lose our voice....
So they can shout....all night...
Give you a big fat headache and then you try to sleep
and then come the horror...
Of something you dare call it a, "DREAM"

I mean how boring is that if you turn MSNBC,
 you know they are going to talk good of Hillary
And if you turn the, "FOX tv station, you know that they are going to talk good of Trump...

Then you go back to MSNBC and you know that they are going to talk bad of Trump
And then you go back to FOX and you know that they are going to talk bad of Hillary....


And after watching this fucking tv debates  that one  gets  soexhusted with a tremendous headache and try and I say
try to go to sleep and then it comes, THE SHADOW OF THE DARK NIGHT.

Maybe in my dreams/nightmares these both groups from MSNBC and FOX become the suspicious, ominous characters shouting and hitting and pushing people in the sea, and murdering them with daggers before they throw them in the sea....

Actually I ust be the only sane person in this fucking world of horror of all kinds that
I am so connected to the reality and light of the day and the darkness of a nightmare during the night...

You can call me whatever you want....but I don't care for you at all....

No, I don't....
I used to
Actually I used to love you and try to seek you out for affection, love, company, conversation, food, coffee, cinema, theater, art galleries............

But no more...
No, no more
You hurt me to such an extent....that I got broken....
I lost myself
But at the same time I lost you....
I lost,"TRUST" in you.......
I did...
Its a sad thing...
I lost, "TRUST" in humanity....
And now I am haunted by demons...
Now you have actually occupied my night............

"OCCUPATION" is a great word....
And the big shots love this word.
They used to 'occupy people's lands
but they have gone further....
They now ,"OCCUPY" peoples souls....

People's souls are not their own.
Others live in themle while dut
Others who we are not familiar with
Others we don't know
Others we don't really like...........
Others who took everything away from us

Our joy, our peace, our laughter, our trust, our existence.............
When your existence depends on the mercy of the EVIL, you have no chance.....

Might as well dream a horrible dream every night....
At least for a little while during the day you try to wake up...................

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

THESE AWFUL DREAMS

Dreams never stopped.
I stopped writing about them.

I needed some co-herence
And nothing was coherent

And it seemed like day time activity
And not while you are sleeping
Wondering about a happy dream
The word dream implies happiness rather than torture of the dark night

But last night the dream seem more co-herent
I mean it made sense

I was seeking , "A cup of tea"
Which I never got
Then I wa looking for a place, a corner of my own
All corners, all chairs, all beds were occupied by some one else

"Its mine"
People would announce in the dream.
"OH1 Ok then."  I would say and look for an other corner to settle

"Go downstairs"  Some one said to me.
"Oh! Ok then"
I went downstairs
Lots of furniture covered with white
It seemed like you were not supposed to sit there.
Some people lying on the floor covered with white
'I am not going to sit next to the dead people."
I heard myself in my dream
I came back upstairs.

"YOu didn't find any place to settle?"
Some one asked me.rs is a morgue.
"This one is a morgue too
"No.  All the people sleeping downstairs are dead."
I said
'Can't be."
Some one said
'We are not in a cemetry."
Some one said
'Go back downstairs again and find a place."
Some one who didn't want me there said.
"OH! I am not going down>"
I said
"There is no space here for you."
Some one said
'She wanted to make sure I don't stay upstairs.
'You can say whatever I am staying here."
I said

'Are you going to stand next to me all night while I sleep?
Some one asked?
"I don't know but I do know that downstairs is a morgue."
I said
'Upstairs is a morgue too"
Some one said

"Are you dead?"
I asked
"Arn't you?"
Some one in a loud, clear voice asked me
I was frightened
I woke up
I was soaking wet and shivering
'I neeed some hot strong tea"
I said
"You won't get it, no you won't."
Dream was continuing ...

The room was hot and dusty
'I need to clean this place"
But its so much work
I need help"

"What?"
"Help"
'Help?"
"Yes, help"
"Go look, and trust me you won't find help, no not any more.
Every one is a busy robbot now.  They don't see you, they don't hear you, they don't care about you or your needs, why would they help?"

"OK, I won't clean.
Let the dust settle
Then it won't disturb me.
'But something else will disturb you>"
"What?"
'The night, the night, the oncoming night, every night will disturb you."

THERAPIST AND A PATIENT CONTINUES

THERAPIST AND THE PATIENT CONTINUES

SCENE FOUR:

PATIENT:

You said, some one is coming later.  Who is that person?

THERAPIST:

What did I say exactly?

PATIENT:

You said, that an FBI agent is coming later."

Why the FBI agent is coming later?

For what reason?

THERAPIST:

To see how I am conducting my work?

PATIENT:

Why should he be interested in your work?

THERAPIST:

Its their job to be interested

PATIENT:

But why?

THERAPIST:

For security

PATIENT:

What kind of security?

THERAPIST:

A patient can be violent

PATIENT:

Am I violent?

THERAPIST:

Not yet...

PATIENT:

What do you mean?

THERAPIST:

You are not violent yet but you can become violent

PATIENT:

Why would I become violent?

THERAPIST:

Because you are very angry and the anger leads to violence

PATIENT:

If you were in my position, you will be angry too...

THERAPIST:

What's your position?

PATIENT:

Thats what I am here to find out

THERAPIST;

You live in a big city.  The most cosmopolitan city in the world.  The most happening place on this

planet.  And you feel nothing is happening for you...

PATIENT:

You think I am wrong to feel that way?

THERAPIST:

Its upto you to make things happen for you in the most happening city in the world

PATIENT:

How am I going to do that?

THERAPIST:

By being less angry

PATIENT:

I don't think I am angry.  I think I am direct and outspoken

THERAPIST:

There is a difference in being outspoken and being agry.  Anger is a negative emotion

and being outspoken is admirable.  But when you entangle anger with direct speech it only resumes

the form of venom

PATIENT:

Thats a strong word, "Venom"  I like it.  I know people who are nothing but venemous towrds me

THERAPIST:

You have a persecution complex

PATIENET:

Thank you for telling me that.  There must be a reason

THERAPIST:

What's the reson?

PATIENT:

Lets not go there...

THERAPIST:

In order for me to treat you, I have to know your feelings.  All kinds of feelings.

PATIENT:

If I have the persecution complex there is a reason and you do know the reason

THERAPIST:

Why would I know the reason?

PATIENT:

Because you are a therapist, goddamn it

THERAPIST:

Don't damn god, he has nothing to do with it

PATIENT:

Who should I damn then?

THERAPIST:

Yourself

PATIENT:

Myself?

THERAPIST:

Yes, yourself

PATIENT:

So I am to be blamed?

THERAPIST:

We are all responsible for our actions

PATIENT:

But I didn't do anything

TERAPIST:

You are a Muslim right?

PATIENT:

What that has to do with anything?

THERAPIST:

It has to do with everything

PATIENT:

Like what?

THERAPIST:

Like your persecution complex

PATIENT:

What about that?

THERAPIST:

Muslims came and destroyed our city, our buildings...

PATIENT:

Wait a minute...wait a minute...I can't believe what I am hearing...

THERAPIST:

You are hearing what I am saying.  Muslims, all Muslims are responsible for the destruction

and since they are involved by association they developed this fake persecution complex to

justify their actions...you can feel other feelings, feelings such as Isolation, loneliness

PATIENT:

You are not a therapist.  You are some one else.  I need to get out of here

THERAPIST:

Not so fast, not so fast.  In order for you to face your reality, your situation, your anger

you have to hear things like this.  Things which make you wake up, smell the coffee and take care of

your anger which is directed towards us, us who had been the victims of your people.

You have to take some responsibility insted of being ferocious, cursing, angry, angry, angry...

You are in a big city where the damage happen.  Instead of being angry you can feel other

feelings such as Isolation, Loneliness...Those feelings are more justified for you because not many

people like your group so its understandable that you will have the big city blues and you will be

lonely.  We are the one's who should be angry.  Anger soesn't justify your situation.

Anger is ours in this case.

PATIENT:

But I have nothing to do with anything.  I am just a patient...

THERAPIST:

Yes, a patient with misplaced anger.....which will lead

to more destruction...it need to be restrined and I am trying to help you before you get into real

trouble........and by the way, (pick up the bell from the table, ring it and then says)  Time is up.  See

you next week.................

SCENE FIVE

PATIENT AND THE PATIENT'S SUBCONSCIOUS

SUBCONSCIOUS:

I am not angry and its not the big city either. I am used to the big cities.  Its not the big city

Its the emptiness of the big city.  Its just big with buildings, cement and steel.  Yes there are crowds.

 Millions of people rushing about, going places of importance, (thats what they think)

glued to their phones, unaware of any human being on their left or their right, pushing ,shoving

like herds of cattle.  The big city is un-aware of its peope. People are un-aware of other people.

There is no conversation whatso ever.

'Do you text?"

People ask me

'No, I don't."

I say

"Call me."

I say

"I don't call."

They say

"Ok then.  Don't call me."

I say

My phone doesn't ring

No it doesn't

"How long have you been living here?"

"I am sad to say, A life time."

"Friends?"

'What does that mean?"

'The word friend has a different definition now."

"What definition?"

'If out of desperation and loneliness one goes out with someone,

(called a friend?) for a glass of wine, they end up having nothing to say, nothing to talk about...

They either keep texting or keep looking  at their phones or pound on you for being an outsider, from

another country, not their favorit country either, for being a Muslim indirectly  and sometime not so

 indirectly.  They keep talking very badly about the country you came from right to your face and

then get on the religion, Muslim religion of course because they un-fortunately happen to know that

you were born in a Muslim country and keep doing a monologue about the muslim religion and how

horrible and violent it is and they completely forget about any other religion as if the oher religions

never existed or they were all mighty innocent and pure and then with a phony, fake smile  say,

'have you ever thought of going back?"

Its like such a classic.  It never goes away.  I always know its coming whenever I make a mistake to

go out with any one....

"Going back where?  To your.......

Lets forget it.

Its better not to see any one.

They make me so angry, extremely angry when I come back home

And my therapist told me anger is

going to lead towards violence....

She is already hinting for some homeland agent coming to her office to check it out.

She is right when she says, "loneliness and Isolation is a million times better than anger."

So its better not to see any one.  Not to be social.  Just be alone, lonely and quiet.

Once I was a social animal but now I am just an animal I guess and angry on top of it...

I better stay home by myself.

Te big city is also full of animals anyway.  And if there are people in the city, they have lost

all ethics, all manners, all sophistication.  They are rude, mean, hostile, angry, racists, insincere

and totally miserable.

If I were as smart as Victor Hugo I will write the modern day novel,  Les miserable...

But alas the human beings of 21st Century neither know Victor Hugo nor are they worth

sweating over a novel even when its going to be about them and called, Les-miserable.

People are un-interesting and very rude.  There is no one to go out with even if you want to...

'What for?"

'Yes, what for are you seeing people?"

There is no discussion, no debate, No opinons about anything, (that's incase they have any opinons

at all) Their opinions are already set in a rigid, narrow framework.

They shout and scream on TV where every one is an expert especially about other people's

religion, (Muslim religion for sure) They shout their racist crap and then the hour is up and then

they go to an after party freeloading on cheap wine....

And my therapist tells me that I am angry.  Actually she asks me, "Why am I so angry?"

I wonder myself...Why?  Why?  Why?  I am so angry?

How much and for how long one can hear to the same bullshit crap....

Every one is so innocent all of a sudden and so so calm.

And the problem is what to do wih myself being so alone all the time?

How much can I read?

My apt is overflowing with books.  No place any more for books...

and beside the limitation of the space, my knowledge of things after reading so many books

has made me very aware of human nature and their tendencies for power and greed and

un-ending wars and that has frigtened me and my knowledge has actually become a disadvantage

and thus the source of my anger... I can see things happening before they happen.

It has made me astute but in a scary way.

How many more plays can I write? How many topics are out there which interest any one

beside all those mediocre politically correct plays?

And by the way I am the only one who calls myself a ,"Playwright"

Go ask the NYT if I am one...

They will set the record straight...

And why should I write more plays?

About what?

The racist ass holes?

Why waste any more of my time?

How many more drawings I can store in my F*** apt?

How many times I can check my god-damned emails?

And what for?

Its all spam anyway.

I should be like Woody Allen.

He doesn't do emails

Doesn't have a computer either

He just keeps making movies and keep going to South of France with Sooni...

his wife/his daughter...see he doesn't give a shit, he doesn't need a computer to be successful.

We do.  He is not an Immigrant.  He was born here.  So you see, that's the answer, you have to be

born here and you can't be Muslim.  Success will happen, computer or no computer.

"Learn computer"

People, those awful people I used to see kept saying to me.

"You can't be successful without you having your plays on the computer."

They kept saying to me all day long....

"Go f*** yourself"

"Liers"

Now I have the f*** computer and where is the f*** success?"

Go f*** yourself and leave me the F*** alone.

The only two things I like about America is the word, "F**.  And F*** you too.

And aluminum foil.

I love aluminum foil.

You can wrap the myonaise drenched tuna sandwitch in aluminum foil and you are perfectly

safe that the myonaise won't drip in your torm Michael Kore's hand bag....

Everything else is very sick, very sick, sick, sick, sick.

Everything is very sick all over the world but I f*** live here, here, here....

What the F*** should I d with my time every day?  No people, no dog....no review....nothing.

I guess I should go every day to the therapist and give her all my remaining pennies.....

and get my anger out somehow befor she calls someone and they take me out of her office in a

straight jacket like the one they brought for Blanche in Street car named desire till the nice gentlman

in a hat tilted his hat and told the nurse not to use the straight jacket and offered his arm to Blanche

and she was so thankful and relieved.  :"I have always depended upon the kindness of strangers."

No one is going to save me in that office when homeland security comes....

No man in a hat...looking like a gentleman ...no gentlemen or gentle ladies any more...in 21st

Century....

Hustlers and vulgarians....thats all but I guess I have to take this anger out somehow...

Maybe lobotomy is the answer.  But I am not a kennedy and won't be able to live in a posh nursing

home as a safe, polite, gentle lady withe half of my brain missing but what is my brain good for any

way?  Not good, not good at all....Too many thoughts, too many conversations with myself...

too many ideas...and no one to share them with....

I better take my therapist seriously....But I have taken her seriously already.  Given her all

my money and I am more sick than ever.  This psychiatrist branch of modern medicine

is not working either.

And then came this, "TECHNOLOGY" to give false importance to all the herds who

had no importance at all....

If all human beings only think of themselves, their life, their health and happiness, their success...

how successful are they?

If you don't give a shit about people dying by the millions, oppressed, hungry, poor, suffereing from

disease, injury, war, all the childen dying all over because of poverty and wars all over...

How successful are you with your indifference towards the suffering human race?

HAVE A HEART HUMANITY....

DO SOMETHING MEANINGFUL... TO SAVE THE PLANET...

Get off of your ,"TEXTING" and call some one...help some one and try, at least try to be a friend...

a sincere, affectionate friend.

Yes, like my therapist said, I use the word ,:AFFECTION"  a lot.  I like the word.  Its a good word.

Its a comforting word.

Yes, Be an affectionate friend. Try to feel other peopl's pain,

their sorrow, their sadness, their rootlessness, their joy.

Have you ever heard of a word called, :SHARE?"

Or you only share a tiny closet in the East Village for $3000 so you can be hip and "TEXT"

someone about it...

Call some one...Find out if they are ok...

When my phone rings its always my sister or my nieces and nephews calling from abroad...

Thank god for that.

Otherwise my phone doesn't ring....

I only run to my therapist and now she is also asking me, "Have you ever thought of going back?"

And that was the reason I STOPPED SEEING ALL MY PHONY FRIENDS BECAUSE THEY

ALWAYS ASKED ME THE SAME QUESTION.

"GO BACK"

"GO BACK"

"GO BACK WHERE?"

"DORTHY OF WIZZARD OF OZ,  GO BACK HOME.'

"WHICH HOME?"

"WHICH HOME?"

"I LOST THE ADDRESS."

"BUT ALL OF YOU KEEP TEXTING"

"WHO IS THE ONE YOU ARE TEXTING?"

"SOME ONE AT YOUR HOME?"

"TOO BAD I LOST THE ADDRESS OF MY HOME."

"AND THE PHONE NUMBER."

"WHEN THE HOME WAS GONE SO WAS THE LANDLINE"

"THERE WAS NO CELL PHONES THEN..."

CAN'T CALL BACK "

"CAN'T GO BACK"

"NO HOME ANY MORE."

"STOP SAYING IT TO ME."

"HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF GOING BACK?"

"IT HURTS."

"STOP"

"YES, I HAVE THOUGHT OF GOING BACK HOME."

"BUT THERE IS NO HOME TO GO BACK TO"

"STOP ASKING...'

"PLEASE STOP."

"THATS WHY I DON'T SEE YOU."

THATS WHY I DON'T SEE ANY ONE OF YOU ANY MORE."

"STOP PROVOKING."

"DON'T EAT MY BRAIN, MY HEART, MY SOUL MY SPIRIT"

"DON'T BE A VULTURE"

I WOULD PREFER LONELINESS OVER ALL THOSE VULTURES

CALLED, HUMAN BEINGS.

'YES, I AM ANGRY"

"YES, ITS NOT GOOD, THE ANGER."

MY THERAPIST EVEN TOLD ME THAT LONELINESS IS BETTER THAN ANGER."

BUT I HAVE THAT ALREADY, THE LONELINESS, THE ISOLATION...

"YES GO AHEAD, CALL ME ANGRY...

"YES, WE ARE ALL ANGRY AND EVERY ONE ELSE IS SO INNOCENT, SO PURE,

SO PEACEFUL, SO CALM,  CONTENT WITH A  CLEAR CONSCINCE,  CALMLY

DESTROYING,  DESTROYING SO CALMLY THE ANGRY ONES............

THERAPIST AND THE PATIENT CONTINUES

THERAPIST AND THE PATIENT CONTINUES

SCENE THREE

PATIENT:

I am not complaining.  I never complain. I hate complaining.

I hate people who complain as well.

You see, when you are with your therapist and you talk about your life it obviously shouldn't be

considered a complaint. Right?

THERAPIST:

 (Sarcastic)

Right...

PATIENT:

Its amazing how people label you.  They call you a, "Complainer" even before one opens one's

mouth. You see the nature of things are different in different people'.s heads.  Some are constantly

busy and some not busy at all. Its like some are billionaires and some are on the doll.

The one's who are on the doll are condemned by fate as well as by themselves.  The rich people say

its the condemned's  fault ...I guess it is.  Its his fault.

Some are born condemned and  some have condemnation  thrust upon them.

But never on the rich or the busy people.

Rich are busy because they have meetings to go to.  They have business breakfasts to go to...

They have Opera to go to.  Some one else invited them.

Amazing thing is that the rich never pay for anything so they do lots of things.  For them everything is.........

possible on this planet.  Met Gala is free for them.  For poor people the ticket is 30-000$

And the table is for $270-000.  I am not kidding.  I read it in the NYT.  They told me its the most

elegantly democratic liberal paper.  So is the Met.  They know how to keep the poor people away.

So the poor people of Manhattan have nothing to do with their time.

No power breakfasts, no Opera, no gala at the Met and no entry at the white house correspondent's

dinner.  Un-believable.  I am also a journalist, (laughs) as well a comedian, (Laughs)

 and my sister went to Harvard like Obama, so I do have some connections with elite

 but some how I am not on their list, neither on the list of Met Gala as well as the power lunches.

I wonder how one gets on the list?  I am a blogger and I see lots of bloggers on those lists.

  "Hi, how come you are going to the Gala?''

"I  am on the list."

"How did you get on the list?"

"I don't worry about that, I am just on the list."

"'Some of us have to worry about that.  Us, who are not on those lists, we need to know how to get on

the list."

:You must be on some list?"

'What do you mean?"  "As far as I know I am not on any list."

"You must be on Obama's list"

"What?"

"Obama has a list, you must be on it."

'Why would I be on Obama's list?  And what kind of a list is that?"

"Obama has a list. He has a list of the one's he wants to assassinate and I am sure you are on it."

"Oh! my lord, you want to go to the Met Gala and you want me to be assassinated?  What have I

done to you  for you to have such deadly wish for me?"

"No, its not that.  I have no wish for you good or bad, I don't care about you, I am not concerned

 about you, I am successful, I am on so many lists, what the f** do I care about you but since you are

 dying to be on some list I wanted you to know that you must be on Obama's list."

Thats the kind of people I know.  Ok?  So you say I complain....

THERAPIST:

(Interrupt)

I never said that you complain...

PATIENT:

Your body language said it.

THERAPIST:

I hardly moved my body in any direction...

PATIENT:

I know.  Thats why.  Your body language is of stiffness and not of affection...

THERAPIST:

You are always looking for affection.  What happened to you in your childhood?

PATIENT:

Nothing F*** happenend in my childhood.  everything shitty happenend here, here, here....

THERAPIST:

You talk about affection a lot.  You must seek it.

PATIENT:

Don't you?  Don't you F*** seek affection?

THERAPIST:

Not from every Tom, Dick and Harry...

PATIENT:

They are all Tom, Dick and Harry here....

THERAPIST:

Have you ever thought of going back?

PATIENT:

(Laughs)

I knew its coming.  I knew it.  Every one asks this question.  Is this the form of your treatment?

To ask me if I have ever thought of going back?  Going back where?

THERAPIST:

Since you are not happy here....

PATIENT:

Are you?  Is everybody happy?  Everyone who was born here.... Are they all happy?

Are any of your patients who were born here  unhappy?  When they talk to you about their lonelliness

or other difficulties of existence,  do you ask them the same question, "have you ever thought of

going back?" How do you treat those patients of yours? Which country do you send them back to...

What the f***.  Waste of my money....

THERAPIST:

You don't have much money...

PATIENT:

Because you took it all...

THERAPIST:

There wasn't much...

PATIENT:

Whatever I had, you took it so before you send me back...whereever that, "BACK" is

Could I have my money back so I can buy a f*** ticket...

THERAPIST:

Maybe Obama should take care of that.  Put you on a list.  Then you won't need money to buy a

ticket.

PATIENT:

Are you a f*** therapist or an FBI agent?

THERAPIST:

I am not but he will join us later.......................

END OF SCENE THREE

THERAPIST AND THE PATIENT CONTINUES

THERAPIST AND THE PATIENT CONTINUES

SCENE TWO:

PATIENT'S MONOLOGUE TURNS INTO DIALOGUE WITH HER SUBCONSCIOUS

PATIENT (CONSENCIOUS)

Health is a gem.

My health

Yes.

Its a gem

I have a precious gem in my possession

I need to cherish it.

Everything else is useless

meaningless

waste of time

Especially people.

All these people

BB, AB, SD, AS, DO, O,T,P.

They come and go

Like everything else

Come and go

Like life

Temporary

Never lasting

Let them go

Don't even think about them

Take them out of your head

Put positive things in your mind

Like your therapist says

'Don't be so negative."

Not healthy

Not healthy at all

"Positive."  therapist says, its healthy

I don't know what positive is

But the therapist says its healthy

Maybe I should trust the therapist more

But some how she makes me more angry than ever

I guess that's the function of therapy

'Make you angry."

So you can become very angry

And then take your anger out

Purge your anger

Get it out

Get rid of it

But then at the same time she tells me that I am very angry

So how am I going to deal with it?

She makes me more angry by saying that I am angry

Maybe thats the format of the treatment

I don't know

I don't know anything any more

I am afraid

Very afraid

Afraid of my anger

But people provoke me

But you don't see no more people any more

Because they provoke me

I don't want to see any one

BUT MY THERAPIST SAYS, "ISOLATION IS NO GOOD."

But who should I see?

When I call no one returns my call

No one even pick up the phone

But that's not only in my case

People tell me that people don't pick up any one's phone

People don't call any one any more

They text

And you don't text

What's the point of texting?

Why not call and hear some one's voice?

But thats not the fashion of the day

The fashion is to text

Ok, I can text some one

Yes, do that

And then?

They will text you back

And then?

Then you will text them back

AND THEN?

Then it will go back and forth

And?

And the time will pass

And?

And then it will be evening

And?

And then they will go on a date

They will?

Yes.  They have dates

Yes

How do you know?

They were texting all day for the date

But they weren't texting me for a date

You are not a lesbian

Am I only suppose to text women?

Not really but women usually text women when they are bored or depressed

Why?

Because men don't give a shit about depression, they only want to fuck

Oh!

Oh! yes

But there must be some straight people left in the world?

There must be but they are all old fashion

Oh!

Yes, Oh! and no one likes them

Why not?

Because they are considered old fashioned and boring

Why?

The world is changed.  Women are with women and men are with men

But I just want friends

Thats the problem

Why?

You don't want to fuck

I do

You do?

Yes

But you want to fuck a man

Yes.  Why not?

You are too old to fuck a man

No I can still fuck a man

But the straight man doesn't want to fuck you

Why?

You said it

What?

You are too old

And the woman?

What about the woman?

The woman doesn't want to fuck you either

Why not?

She asks me, 'Why not"?

Yes, why not?

You are not a lesbian

Oh!

Yes, oh!

So no one wants to fuck me

NO NO ONE

HOW SAD

YES, ITS SAD, BUT THERE IS SOME ONE WHO WANTS TO FUCK WITH YOUR HEAD

WHO?

THE CRITIC

THE CRITIC?

YES, THE CRITIC...

WHY? WHAT DID I DO TO THE CRITIC?

THEY DON'T LIKE YOU

NOT MANY PEOPLE LIKE ME

BUT THEY COULD HAVE CHANGED YOUR LIFE

HOW?

YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO GO TO A THERAPIST

WHY NOT?

YOU WOULD HAVE GONE TO THE OPENING NIGHT PARTY ON BROADWAY

OH!

YES, OH!

I guess I fucked up

Yes, thats what you did

How did I do that?

You didn't do the hustle

What's the hustle

Say, what they like to hear

What do they want to hear?

Not the crap you talk about

I talk about crap?

Yes, you do

I am telling you, I am your friend

I have no friend, no one text me

Because they know that you are an imbecile

Thank you so much.  You sound worse than my psychotherapist

She hates you too

What does that mean, She hates you too?

You seem unhappy in this country and you are still here.  They want you to praise the

country or get out

Get out where

WHERE EVER YOU CAME FROM?

Who are you?

Your friend

I have no friend

I am your subconscious

I have a subconscious?

Yes, every one has a subconscious

I don't see any one talking to their subconscious

They don't go for psychotherapy.  its the therapy which has awakened your sub conscious and you

are..........

asking questions.  its a good sign

So you think the therapy is working?

Yes

Then why am I so angry?

Because you have to be angry before you are happy

So all the happy people here were angry before?

Very

Did they all go to therapy?

No, some of them, actually most of them hustled and made millions and that made them happy

I didn't know that I had to hustle instead of going for therapy

Should I start to hustle now?

First of all you don't know how to hustle and second of all, you are too old to hustle now

Sad, so sad.  You tell me that I am too old for fucking and too old for hustle.

Yes, thats a fact.  You are in the modern world.  hustle and fucking is the most important thing

Change the title of your play to, 'HUSTLE AND FUCKING." Like that English man who wrote
,
"SHOPPING AND FUCKING."  He went very far with that title.  He is modern.  He was born in the

West.  You have to be born in the West or you have to be Salman Rushdi and Ayan Hirshi, fake

moderns, they say exactly what the modern critic wants to hear.  See how far they got and you are

still in the therapist's office...

I guess I didn't understand the West before I came to the West.

You are right..you have to understand the country perfectly well before you get there.

So what should I do now?

I don't know, its very late in your case, I guess you should commit suicide or get arrested.  There is no

hope for you.

I need you  to stop talking to me.

I don't need this kind of awareness of subconscious.  I want to live without the subconscious.  Please

don't come back.  You are not invited back.  You are worst than the therapist.  Are you Western or

Eastern?

What do you think?

I don't know what to think any more?

I am your sub conscious so go figure...........................

THERAPIST AND A PATIENT

THERAPIST AND A PATIENT

A.K.A

THE ANGRY ONES

A NEW PLAY

BY

BINA SHARIF

CHARACTERS

PATIENT (CONSCIOUSNESS)

SUBCONSCIOUSNESS)

THERAPIST

copyright: binasharif:2016

SCENE ONE:

PATIENT:

There are other things in the world beside BB,AB, SD, AS, DO, O,T,P...

THERAPIST:

For example?

PATIENT:

Health...

THERAPIST:

Whose health?

PATIENT:

My health.  My health is a gem.

THERAPIST:

That's good.  That's very good.  Its very positive.  I didn't expect that from you

PATIENT:

What do you mean?

THERAPIST:

You are mostly negative

PATIENT:

Perhaps you have helped me...

THERAPIST:

I hope so...

PATIENT:

Maybe I should stop seeing you hen?

THERAPIST: (Little nervous)

No, no,no.  You are not there yet...

PATIENT:

Where?

THERAPIST:

At the level when is labelled, "Normal"

PATIENT:

Oh1 so I am not normal/

THERAPIST:

You are not abnormal but you are hostile

PATIENT:

Actually being hostile is very normal in today's world.  Hostile, angry, aggressive, miserable,

that's all normal and I came from another F***ing world where they told us that education

is essential to survive in this advanced, developed, free world and education teaches one to be polite

but the developed world is evil and aggressive and selfish.  Its called, "individualism"

and is considered norma.  But you are implying that me being hostile is abnormal.  o you can afford

to be hostile and still be normal but if I exert myself in the style of the western individuals I am

considered abnormal...is that it?

THERAPIST:

You are angry

PATIENT:

So should I jump up and down and dance and do a litany of thanks to te world?

PATIENT:

What has this world done to you?

PATIENT:

You have to ask?

THERAPIST:

How would I know if you don't tell me?

PATIENT:

You are the therapist, you must know what happened to me?

THERAPIST:

What happened to you?

PATIENT:

How the F*** would I know...

THERAPIST:

You just said, "something happened to you"

PATIENT:

I didn't say that.  I said, " you are supposed to know what happened to my life"  You are a therapist

you need to know.  Its your profession.

THERAPIST:

Why are you here?

PATIENT:

So you can treat me

THERAPIST:

Are you ill?

PATIENT:

I don't know

THERAPIST;

Who is supposed to know?

PATIENT:

You do.  You take my money.  You know and you don't know then you should know.

THERAPIST:

You don't pay me enough fo me to know that you are ill or not

PATIENT:

I give you all my money.  No one F***ing pay me and who ever pays me some pennies I give it to

you.  What else the F*** do you want from me?

THERAPIST:

You curse a lot.  Where are you from?

PATIENT:

I have been F***ing seeing you for 10 years and now you ask me where am I from?  Is this a joke or

 something?

THERAPIST:

I thought you were a Muslim

PATIENT:

Lets not go there, ok?  What do you want to call the FBI?

"Say something when you see something"

Is that what you are doing?

You see something?

Han, do you see something?

Do you want to say something when you see something?

I am sure you see me.  I am quiet fat.  You can't miss seeing me.  Now you want to say something?

After taking all my money for 10 years you want to say something?

Is that it?

I know this sentence, :Say something when you see something."

I hear it constantly when I am in the F***ing subway.  I see a lot...All the F***ing time I see something.

I see the mad crowds shuffling and hustling

I see the homeless on the platforms

I see the garbage

Oh! do I see the garbage

What should I say, "Oh1 hi, I see the garbage...so much garbage...tons of garbage...

who should I inform about it?

I see the F***ing dogs, ferocious dogs coming at me to bite my thigh...who should I inform about it?

I see bicycle riders coming at full speed cursing at me to get out of the way...who should I inform...

I see backpacks breaking my ribs in the subway..."Say something when you see something"

Tell me what does this sentence means?

You are the therapist.  Help me out here.  What does this mean?

Tell me what does this sentence means?  And who do they want to be informed about?

Tell me, it disturbs me whenever I hear it in the subway...in fact whenI heard it for the first time it

disturbed me so much that I thought that I should seek therapy and thats when I started to F***ing

see you and now after 10 years of you taking my money, you are implying that there is some Muslim

issue involved in this F***ing sentence...Is that what it is?

THERAPIST:

You are paranoid...

PATIENT:

Yes, I am paranoid.  Right.  Everything is so F***ing great and I am so abnormal after 10 years of

therapy that I am paranoid when you imply that I should say something when I see something.  I see

you.  I see you, a failed therapist, a hostile therapist, a racist therapist, a prejudiced therapist...who

should I call?

THERAPIST:

What is it that bother you most of the time/

PATIENT:

How the f*** would I know?  I come to you to find out.  If I knew what bothers me I would sit the

 F*** down and write a novel about it but you don't let me talk...

THERAPIST:

I don't let you talk?  Thats a joke.  You are the most talkative patient I have ever encountered...

PATIENT:

What else the F*** you want me to do?  Sit here silently like a corpse till your bell rings and you announce,
"Time is up."  Yeh, yeh, time is up...Your time is always up without solving any of my problems.

You hardly talk and then you say, "Time is up."

I wish I was a therapist instead of being a patient.  Then I will take every body's money and say a

word or two in one hour and then say, time is up.  Every one is hustling.  Its all a hustle. All a

F***ing hustle.

THERAPIST:

Why don't you hustle as well?

PATIENT:

I f***ing didn't know the word, "HUSTLE" back home.  They told us, "Educate yourself"

"educate yourself.  Study till 4am and you will get places."

'Places" My big behind.  You go to hell without a hustle.  We didn't know the word hustle...

THERAPIST:

You have lived here for so long, you should have learned the word, "Hustle."

PATIENT:

So you do agree with me that its all a f***ing hustle...

THERAPIST:

I don't agree but since you are emphasizing the word, "Hustle"  You should have learned.

PATIENT:

Yeh, right, its so easy for every one to say things to others without knowing shit.

You of all people should know that whatever one doesn't learn growing up

becomes absolutely hard to learn in later years.  Didn't your colleague, Freud said,

childhood's experience is the only experience towards your development.

Arn't we trying to go back to our childhood on your couch to find out our earlier

assets and drawbacks?  The word,"HUSTLE" is not in my conscious or subconscious or whatever

the fuck that other stuff called, ID and Ego is...

Yes, surprise surprise...I know some so called important words often used in psychotherapy...

conscious, subconscious etc, etc, etc.

I should go ahead and F***ing buy a couch and make you lie down in it and ask you condescending

questions and ring the bell and say, "time is up."  and take all your money and send me back to the

 F***ing subway where they are announcing non stop, "Say something when you see something."

What the f*** should I say?

THERAPIST:

We have a lot of work to do together to get you healthy...You are very angry but, (she picks up the

bell from her table and ring it) "TIME IS UP."

END OF FIRST SCENE

BLACK OUT