FRAGMENTS
Don't do what you promise not to do
Do whaat you always say, "You should do."
'Don't" I said
'Don't."
Don't you get it?
No, you don't get.
I am so mad at you
So mad...
I could kill you for that.
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"Why must you discontinue what you love?"
"What do you love?"
"Yes, what do you love?"
"What do you love?"
Silence comes...Silence comes...Silence comes.
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It will come
When it will come
Why are you waiting for it?
Death, I mean...
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"Don't call her"
"Don't call him."
"Don't call anyone."
"What's wrong with you?"
"What the f**k is wrong with you?"
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Good start
Bad end
so simple
so, so simple
Bad end
Just that
Bad end
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"Getting fat."
"Fat enough."
"You are in a bad mood today."
"Only today?"
'"Only today?'
"Getting fat for days, months, years..."
"Shame on you. Deteriorating every month, every year."
"Shame on you."
'And shame on you, reminding me every day
every month, every year, Shame on you."
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'WRITE A PLAY
F: Write a play
L: Really?"
F: Yes, write a play.
L: You write a play.
F: I am not a playwright.
L: Neither am I.
F: What are you then?
L: I don't know
F: Who knows then?
L: "You do.
You know, you know everything
You tell me, who I am. You always tell me
"Oh! You don't know who You are?
Tell me, who am I? Who am I? Who am I?
Tell me for the last time and get the hell out of my life."
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Unending trauma
Thats what traumas are for
Unending....
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'Mental illness is it?"
'Yes, yes, yes."
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"I am sick of you."
"And I am of you."
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'Go to the beach."
"And?"
"And, Roast."
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"They all die desolate."
"But you are living and desolate."
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"So busy, so, so busy."
"And you?"
"Me?"
"Me busy?"
"Me?"
"Yes, get busy like all of us.
We are busy, working, working,
get busy...Like us, us, we are busy.
" Me? busy? with what? Doing what?"
"Work...work, sweetheart, work.
"Work? Work? Work? What work?"
"Do the work you do. Work."
"I write plays."
"That's not work, that's bullshit, do the real work like us."
"What kind of work do you do?"
" WE WORK, WE WORK. WE SWEAT."
"OH! THAT KIND OF WORK. I HAVE BEEN WORKING FOR YEARS. IN MY PLAYS I DANCE
AND DANCE MAKE ME SWEAT, I SWEAT A LOT...A LOT, A WHOLE LOT...ALL KINDS OF
SWEAT POURS OUT OF MY POURS..."
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A: "Charlotte wrote Whuthering Heights."
B: " And Emily wrote, Jane Eyre"
A: "You want to bet?"
B "Yes."
A: "How much?"
B: "One hundred dollars."
