I AM MY OWN BIOGRAPHY

"I AM MY OWN BIOGRAPHY"

A ONE WOMAN PLAY
BY
BINA SHARIF
copyright:binasharif2020

I did nothing with this beautiful title.

Need to come back to it and begin the play

But do I still have an idea of the un-written play?

No, no idea whatsoever...

Perhaps some thing, some miracle, a creative miracle

will happen and the play will come back to me...

I guess I should put all the posts I have been writing on facebook...

All of them

All written by me

All written about the times we live in

All different kinds of events so often bombarding us

Would that fit this title, "I am my own biography?"

I guess so...

I am my own biography can also mean that,"It's my own autobiography"

Right?

I am getting confused

I got off my singing birds blog for some time

I wonder why?

And now it's getting hard to get back all the ideas I had

when I selected the titles for future work

I don't want to change the title at all

But I don't want to write about my own life

I am not interested in a memoir

I am a surrealist

An abstract kind of a creator

A stream of consciousness kind of a person

Ok, I will keep the same title and write

a stream of consciousness, absurdist kind of scenario

In the shape of different pieces of writing strung

Together like a garland with flowers of different kinds and colors

That would be great...

I think

What do you think?

Who are you talking to?

My audience

My future audience

Oh! the audience, the audience, the audience

Audience is always hard to get

Write the play first

Then worry about the audience...

Do I have to have a worry any way?

Yes, knowing you

You have to have a worry of somekind..

I have an idea for you

Get rid of the worry

Get rid of all the worries

Right now

Right away

And be happy

be garateful 

Come back to the blog

Come back to the blog

Come back to the blog

AND MAKE SOMETHING UP.

ALL IS MAKE BELIEVE

TRUST ME

GO AHEAD

MAKE SOMETHING UP.

AFTERALL, TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY.

"I, KARIMA ULLAH"

"I,KARIMA ULLAH"

EVERYTHING DISTURBING,
REGRETS
SORROWS
MISHAPS
UNHAPPINESS
HAPPINESS
JOURNEYS
TAKEN
JOURNEYS NOT TAKEN
THINGS COULD HAVE BEEN DONE DIFFERENTLY
THINGS NOT DONE AT ALL
WISHES
ACCOMPLISHMENTS
FAILURES
RELATIONSHIPS
FAMILY
THE WORLD
FOREIGN CITIES
PEOPLE
RACISM
PEOPLE OF COLOR
THE FIRST WORLD
THE THIRD WORLD
MONEY
FRIENDS
ENEMIES
RELATIONSHIPS
MOST POPULAR
THE LEAST POPULAR
LIVING IN A FOREIGN LAND
CHOICES
NO CHOICES
GOVERNMENTS
BIGGOTS
SUPERIORITY
INFERIORITY
KARIMA'S BROTHERS
KARIMA'S SISTERS
KARIMA'S BIRTH
KARIMA'S STUDIES
KARIMA'S ULTIMATE SORROW
KARIMA'S ULTIMATE REGRET
KARIMA'S WOUNDS
KARIMA'S LAUGHTER
FAILURE
SUCCESS
ALL IN THE EYE OF THE WORLD
THE WORLD?
WHOSE WORLD?
EMPATHY?
COMPASSION?
SENSITIVITY?
LOVE, A FAKE WORD
DIFFICULTY OF SURVIVAL
GREEN TREES
WATER
OCCEAN
RIVERS
GREEN GRASS
FLOWERS
SUN
SUN SHINE
RAIN
THUNDER
THUNDER STROMS
EARTHQUAKES
DISEASES
WARS
DEATH
LOVE...
SEEKING LOVE
FOREIGN LANDES
STRANGERS IN FOREIGN LANDS
LONELINESS
CONVERSATIONS
FRIENDS...WHERE ARE THEY?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?

KARIMA'S DAYS, KARIMA'S NIGHTS

KARIMA'S DAYS, KARIMA'S NIGHTS

"I just got depressed
Is that a surprise?
No, not really...
But that's the only thing I do
Best with great persistence and determination

Willingness even
Yes, willingness
Thinking that this activity
 Is not the product of my will
But it is.  It certainly is...

Conscious or subconscious
Or whatever...
There is no need to analyze any longer
It's the thing one does
Because it must be the thing
One likes best...

So stop putting yourself down
Annouce your love for it
And celebrate it...
Be joyous about it...

Let's play the game again

"What are you going to do today?"
'Be depressed."
"But you did that yesterday
"And the day before"
"Sure, it's my full time job"

"All of you have jobs
Don't you?
Sometime all of you say,
"Oh! my job makes me depressed."
Right?
So why my job
Which is to get depressed
Every day without fail,
with great dedication
Can't make me depressed?

Come on, be fair...
That's my job
To be depressed every day
That's my job...
Ok?

"I understand
Since it's your full time job
Then make it a happy experience...
'Yes, sure, I should."

"But you don't, you look so sour
So unhappy, so depressed
Actually when you announce to the world
That you are depressed...
Be proud of it...
Tell people that your depression
Has no interuptions
It's constant
Like the waves in the Occean

No matter what happens
The waves keep coming
And keep going back and forth
Back and forth with such discipline
Singing the same melodious song

"My song isn't so melodious like the waves."

"It must be.
That's the only song you always sing"
"That's the only song I know."
"Why do you want to be a singer then?
If you have no repotoir
A singer with one song...
Who is going to listen to it over and over again?"

"Got stuck, singing the same song
In the same corner..."

"Leave the corner
Go to another corner actually"

"All corners are the same
They seem different
Because they are other people's corners
But everyone of them are stuck
In their own corners
Even if they don't seem like it
It;s called life my dear, life, the dear life."

"I want to go to Tunisia"

"People in Tunisia feel the same way
They are stuck in their own little corners."

"There are no corners over there
There are no corners in Tunisia
No one is stuck over there
Corners are only in the East Village
Corners of Ave A, corners of Ave B and C and D
No Avenues like A and B and C in Tunisia"

"In Tunisia they have different names for their corners
But they are there nevertheless"

"I want to be in some one elses's corner
Then I will feel differently
I don't want to be in my own corner"

"You better be in your own corner girl
You know how tough it is to be in some one
Else's corner?
Stuck in some other corner
Where the war is raging all around it?"

"I don't want to talk about the war
War and the homeless and their matresses on the streets
That is perhaps the source of my depression."

"Don't make excuses
You were depressed long before the war"

"I never was depressed, never, never before 1991"

"What happend in 1991?"

"The first war."

"The first world war?"

"No silly- the first Persian Gulf war."

"Oh! that war.  Every one has forgotten about that war.
Thats way in the past.
You are still depressed about that war?"

"That's when my depression actually began.
I was always happy and slim before that."

'What that has to do about you being fat?"

"I just sat down, got depressed, sat down
And just read about that war and war only.
I was in shock.
That was my first experience of the war"

""Lucky you- we went on the streets
marching against the Veit -Nam war."

"I wasn't involved in that."

"Me too, I wasn't involved either
But we wanted it to stop..."

"Don't we want this war to stop?"

"Which one?"

"This one, the one going on right now?"

'There are too many wars going on right now
And it's too hot to march against it
And inspite of the march the wars
Still keep raging..."

"That makes me depressed
And I can't deal with it
And I watch other people
They still have their normal lives
They deal with it
Because they are normal people
And normal people are not affected by such things
They get up and go to work
Go home
Cook, clean, eat, watch tv, sleep..."

'Why don't you do the same?
Cook, clean, watch tv..."

'I don't have a tv...

"Still go to work, come back, cook, clean..."

'I don't do all that.  First of all I have
No job, so I don't go to work
And then I don't come back from work
To cook and clean..."

'What do you do?"

"I write plays."

"Oh! then write plays about the war..."

"No, never, never, never..."

"Why not?"

"I wrote plays about the war

That was a big mistake."

'Why was it a big mistake?"

"Because it offended so many, so many people.
It pleased no one."

"The plays shouldn't be about pleasing or offending
It should be about raising conscinece and awareness
About the horros of war..."

'Oh! the critics don't like such topics, the producers
Don't like such topics, it doesn't make them money
They like the wars though because it makes their countries tons of money
And I kind of introduced myself as the anti war playwright
And that was the end of that..."

"The end of what?"

"The end of any kind of praise for my work and I was dismissed...
You know that is a very good technique in the West..
Just do nothing but DISMISS whover you want to dismiss
For whatever reason and that person will be completely forgotten
It works...That technique is brilliant, it works..."

"Then write about something else."

"Right now I have no other idea, no other thought
Except war..."

"Are you a war playwright?  Like our president...
He is the war prsident, totally 100%
Dedicated to decimate the world before it ends on it's own..."

'No way...I am not a war playwright...According to the
Critics I am not a playwright at all...But I can never be a war playwright
Because I hate war, but it's going on  since, 1992 and I have no other Idea
Of any other topic...

'You are realy stuck, arn't you?

"I am.  I am realky stuck and that's why I am depressed."

"No, honey, you were depressed before that
Long before that..."

"No, I wasn't"

'You used to say often, "I am depressed,"

"Every one says that once in a while.
All artists say that. But they are not all depressed
They are all working...they just say that...They
say it because it's artistic but I mean it
They are working, I am the only one not working."

"You are working darling, you are always working.
Always reading about the war...It's been a year now...
Forget about it...read some self help books about
How to have fun..."

'I can't do that.  I feel incredible affinity for Iraqi people
Who are all dead and damaged...I can't stop thinking about them."
I don't know what has happened to me...
Even when the strangers see me they ask,
"So what's going on with the war?"
I get offended and I say,
"You tell me what's going on with war?
You are reading the same newspaper."
But they say, "

Oh! but you know more about the war
We are sure about that..."

'Why?"
I ask
My voice get higher with agitation
"Why should I know more about the war while your NYT is
Keeping you update about it?"

"Then they come to the real racists part...
'You know more about it because
You are from that part of the world."

'What?"
I say

"You are from that part of the world."
They repeat themselves

'First of all I am not from Iraq
But even if I was, how would they all know?
How do they all know that I am from that part of the world?"

I feel they are all spies, each one of them...
And they want to provoke me...
Because they are after me...
And then I become paranoid and want to stay away
From all people...
And just stay in my corner
That kind of Isolation
And it's reality is very depressing...
And I begin to get very depressed...
And then to avoid the idea of that horrifying feeling
I want to believe
That they are not all spies and I am just paranoid
But the idea of being paranoid and Isolated is also extremely
Un-comfortabale and depressing...
Paranoia is a disease which is now entering your system
Slowly and constantly
And the fear of knowing how crippling it is..
And under the influence of all that
NO HAPPY IDEA CAN ENTER MY MIND
TO COME UP WITH A NEW ENTERTAINING PLAY."

"Stop reading about the Iraq war and thinking about it
Read something else...
Read something meditative and poetic to relieve
Your paranoid mind..."

"And I DID
I PICKED UP TREASURED WRITINGS OF kHALIL GIBRAN
AND ALL HE WAS TALKING ABOUT WAS BEKA VALLEY AND BABAACK
WHICH IS IN LEBANON AND MY MIND WENT RIGHT BACK TO WAR..."

"Read the writers who didn't write about the war.
"
Khalil Gibran didn't write about the war but he came from Lebnon
And that part of the world had centuries of wars...
His poetry is all related to his home and the loss of it and the nostalgia...
Of the valley and the family..."

'But Iam sure he still did his laundry and washed his hair
And cooked and ate and took care of his daily work...
And his life in New York...Learn from him...
Take care of your daily life..."

"MY DAILY LIFE IS MY THOUGHT."

"Get rid of your thought.  Just do laundry, cook, clean, sleep.
Just do that .  THAT WILL HEAL YOUR FEARS AND DEPRESSIONS.

'And when people ask me, "What's with war?"
What do I say?"

"Say, "What war?  There is no war here.
There is no war in NY and I have to run...
My laundry must be dry by now and then
I have to run home and mop my kitchen
And cook a meal in this boiling hot weather
And I am exhausted from any other thought
Especially the thought of war..."

Yes, you say that, actually yell at all of them
And collect your laundry and go home
Think of Khlil Gibran and continue
Your ordinary life... your daily orinary life
War is not for you
It's the stuff designed for extraordinary world powers."

'Don't try to be a war philosopher.
Just be an ordinary philosopher
And try to deal with every day's mundane reality
That's the real philosophy of existence
Till existence is no more...

'Conqour the little things in life.
First of all you are a warrior too...
Fight your own little wars
Then the thoughts of bigger wars won't depress you
Your duty is to fulfill the function your existence
assigned to you...
Nothing more...nothing more...nothing less.
You are only a fragile human being...
Fragile things break easily........

PUZZLE

PUZZLE

I am the only puzzle
I have to solve,

What's the matter with you?
Come on...
Enough already..

And all these familiar corners
From Lagamin
To Tarraluchi
From Tarraluchi to 9th St
Road to no where

What's wrong with you?
What's wrong with your life?
Your world has become so narrow
Was that the reason for you to cross
The occean?
To stay on the corner on 9 St and Ist ave?
Was that the reason to come to the bigger world
To stay in corners? stay within three blocks?

You are the only puzzle
you have to solve...

GO TO SAN FRANCISCO...
AND DO NOT COME BACK
STAY NEAR THE GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE
AND CHERISH THE BLUE GREEN WATER
AND WEAR FLOWERS IN YOUR HAIR...
-------------

She is thrilled to be wuth such
An ugly, uncouth, loud and vulgar man
She seemed to be thrilled
She hasn't stopped laughing
She is laughing loudly, very loudly
She hasn't stopped laughing since she walked in
And he hasn't stopped talking, loudly, very loudly
Since he walked in here with her...

I have to go
I have to leave
I must leave
What are you waiting for?
Leave
I haven't finished my drink yet...
You should still leave...
My glass of wine was 21 dollars...
I can't leave
I have to drink it...
I have to finish it
I have to justify my dollars...well spent...
So far she and her partner they, are giving me a bad rap
About wasting my money and sitting here
Amongst vulgarity...
Vulgarity and expensive wine
What a combination......
--------------------

Anything that should be done for me
Must be done by me...

Alleviate it
Not perpetuate it...?

"He loved his master more than he loved himself. "  modern slave

Turn in a new direction

"You are the only one who hasn't benefited from being here.
Work, make some money for god's sake
Enough of philosophy
No one cares for philosophy or any other such topic
Make money...
Do things for yourself
You never thought of doing..
Connect, re-establish
your educational skills

Our hatred for ourselves
made us hate ourselves
it's a cycle
Which repeats itself often
Actually all the time
Break the cycle
Try
It's going to be hard
Smash it...
TRY...

Western interests
Imperialism
Colonialism
Racism

With a sense of poise
and balance
You take a step forward...
And then another step
And another...

'Wrong is wrong
No matter who does it
Or who says it."  Mx

"A chain,
A prison,
Keeping confined
Not letting go this way or that way."  ?

Inferior
Inadequate
Helpless

Victims

Inferiority
Helplessness
Inadequacy

Victim...
Negative
Negative
Negative...?

Turn to somebody else
Ask some body else
To show us the way...?

Interest should be worldwide
Instead of local...?

Stop calling yourself a minority
It means, "lesser than something else
Lesser than some one else...
Odds are against all minority

Majority
The leader
The powerful leader
One of the powerful ones
One man band
More powerful than the rest of the bands
Even the dark majority prevails on the world stage
get rid of the odds
Demand for your rights
Demand
But never beg

He is neither your boss
Nor better than you
Nor stronger than you
If he has more money
Or a country home
Does it make him superior than you?
If he does...
Then you are very un-fortunate

'Respectable,
Responsible
In the eyes of the master...  slave
No one is your master...  non-slave

They lay down the rules
But rules are always in their favor."  ?

'Master of tricks
Of deceit
Of deception
Europian history is of colonialism
that is racism....?

"Qualify me
So I can be free
They themselves qualify us
And only then we are qualified"...?

"Supreme means to be above others."  ?

"They have got no soul
And to be part of that group
You have to pretend
That you have no soul either..."?

"I have changed my mind
I don't want to go this new way
I want to go back to the previous way."  ?

"Get your bits and pieces together
To go forward and progress."?

'African civilization called, "CARTHAGE
Hannibal from Carthage defeated Rome
And occupied Italy for 15-18 years."  ???

"Moores ruled Spain,
Southern France
Portugal and ruled for 700 years
during the dark ages, darkness and ignorance."   ????

Passive
Peaceful
Forgiving
Non-violent...?

"ARE YOU A GYPSY?"

"ARE YOU A GYPSY?"

A man in passing,
asked me,
"Are you a gypsy?"

"Yes, I am."
What an ass hole?
I said, I said to myself.

Usually people, (Racist's) of all colors and creed
say things like that.

"To call a stranger or any one else
For that matter is really racist.

Some white illiterate do it
Especially to a dark person
Who is usually a woman
With dark hair and flowing skirts

Well that's a sterotype which is finally melting
Because the white women in the west are
also wearing flowing skirts.
It's fashion

So a man who calls a woman of certain color, (dark)
A gyspy is certainly racist...
But the irony in my case was that the man
Who asked me if I was a gypsy wasn't white...

He was dark, an immigrant look alike minority
And an artist on top of that...

Arn't artists supposed to be more sensitive
Towards people?
People of all colors?
Would he have some sensitivity towards
His own dark color?

Oh! well..
I am not a gypsy
But I don't mind being one
But no one else has the right to call me one

Or perhaps they do
People feel they have rights
About everything which concern others
They assume that right somehow...

They do that because it's a function of racist world any way...
But I must be a first class gypsy
A royal gypsy
With a title of ladyship or a dame
A nice title, "Dame gypsy."

Dame gypsy goes to French cafe's to sip latte
And read the London guardian
Arn't gypsies beggars or thieves or both?
Arn't gypsies un-educated, barefoot with running noses?

I must be at the top of a grand gypsy list
Who have sandles and her nose is not running
Who can read Emerson sipping machiato
In top most Meditereanean cafe's...

This gypsy is lucky with the grace of god...
For god didn't make me a gypsy but beautiful.
I am not a gypsy
I am beautiful and exotic and smart
And that is enough for me...
And I am a DAME GYPSY."
How about that?
How about that?

A woman asked me the other day if I was a gypsy.

I told her, "If you would like me to steal your rolex watch,

Your iphone and your wallet I won't mind being called a gypsy."

The woman grumbled that I was a mad woman...

Instead of acknowlging that she was a racist bitch.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AFTER A SLEEPLESS NIGHT

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AFTER A SLEEPLESS NIGHT

Today, July first, I was born
Born in FAISALABAD.
You don't kniw where that town is
But some one else will know...

There is always some one
Who knows about mysterious things
My birth must have been a mystery as well
But some one, some where knows
There is no secret in life
So, why not always tell the truth?

Truth telling is dangerous as well
Some people go to jail for that
And some give up their life for it
And some, by not telling the truth
Make a million dollar...

But truth of the matter is that
I was born in FAISALABAD
Very far from here
Can't even fly there...
It's far...

Can't believe it...
Came so far away from my birth?
Can't believe it...
What were you thinking?
Not thinking...
Not thinking at all...

I used to celebrate my birthdays
In gardens
In private gardens
Of lovely friends
With shamiana
And daig, huge containers
filled with freshly cooked biryani
On the premise...

And huge trays of mutton
So fresh,
Falling off the bone
With aromas of spices of Bengal
Mixed with the breath of Jasmine
And nargis key phool...

At least 100 people will come
And the cake, so huge...
Two cakes actually...
Chocolate and fruit cake...
Evening lights, cool breeze,
Lots of laughter...

Here, laughter...
Where is it?
You can't laugh alone
I am not a mad woman
I hope not...
Very close to it
Because I like laughter

You have to be off your phone
With great respect for your friends
Listen to the stories, one of you
Is trying to tell...
And perhaps that story is funny
And will make you laugh
But that kind of patience and concentration
Is missing

We had lots of concentration in FAISALABAD
And we were all story tellers..
When it rained...
Like it's raining here right now
When it rained...
Those were the happiest days
Rain was a symbol of romance

Sit in your veranda
And hear the sound of rain falling
On the green grass,
On the trees, dripping drops like tears of happiness
And mangoes...
Coldmangoes in the drums with ice
and laughter....
And stories
And dreams
Dreams of America...

Now on my birthday, July first
I am in America...
And it's raining...
Pouring...
some of us were going to go
On a friend's roof and have cake
And cocktails
But it's raining
And we have no verandha...
No garden
No byriani..
No shamiana...

No flickering lights in the trees
Like a scene from an Indian wedding...
Rain has just stopped now
But we had already cancelled the meeting
On the roof
The birthday meeting, I mean...
Once you cancel anything here
It is cancelled...
Can't go back...
Move forward...

Another woman who is a multimillionaire
Told me, "MOVE FORWARD."
"Move forward where to?"
She was moving towards her Bank...
'Buying another house in the world somewhere?
I asked her
'Yes, a small house in the South of France"
Oh! how nice..."
I said...
She is for sure moving forward

I want to move backward
I want to sit in my veradha
In Faisalabad, in my sehen near the
the flowers my father grew in that sunny sehen...
Veranda was also to take helter in the rain
Because it had a roof over it
But the sehan hd no roof,
The rain will fall right inside our house
And we will sit in the veranda and laugh and laugh
And tell each ther stories and eat mangoes...
This time of the year and every year

On my birthday,,,there was mango season...
My favorite fruit...
Great poets wrote poetry about the rain and mangoes
And wine...
We din't have wine in FAISALABAD
But we came here for wine...
We can have lots of wine here...
Right now sitting outside on the road side
And believe that we are enjoying ourselves

Till a big fat rat runs fast light lightening and thunder
fro somewhere near the garbage bags towards
other garbage bags next to the wine bars on the streets
Right now...Corona time

My birthday is so special...
Because I am so special...
During the rain
We can't even sit next to the garbage
And admire our rats...
And we came here for wine...
I want to be back in my veranda
watching the rain falling in our sehen...
And everyone wishing me happy birthday
Including my mother and father
And all my brothers and sisters...around..

I move backward...
Americans say, "that's my demise."
But I want to move backward in slow motion...
It will take me a Century to get back
 to FAISALABAD...
THE PLACE OF MY BIRTH...
So I can sit in my veranda on my birthday
But even after the slow motion journey
backward...won't be able to find the veranda...
The house with the sehen, the veranda, the phool
The jasmin, the nargis, the tea, the mangoes
And the birthday day celebrations is no more...
THE HOUSE IS SOLD.......

"HOW NOT TO BE...."

"HOW NOT TO BE..."
How not to be depressed
is also progress.
To do nothing but
not to be depressed is progress.

Do little things every day
which are not depressing
Forget about the big
Rewards...
You are the reward

Forget about the big picture
There is no big picture
It just looks big
They enlarged
The image themselves
So it can look overpowering

Forget about the whole thing
And this is the last time
I am telling you that
It's not a joke
I am serious, because it's the last day,
The last time,
For your therapy session...
I have a new patient now

So, it's the last minutes remaining...
Listen or don't listen
That is upto you
So let me repeat myself
Again for the last time

Forget about the whole thing
The big picture
The one which haunts you
The one you haven't owned
The source of your nightmares
The insomnia...

Forget about it
Do little things
Little things
Every day
Which are manageable
Things you can control
Things which are
Under your own control

Things which are good for you
Things which you enjoy
Even if they are waste of your time
Do them...
It's good to waste time
On things which one enjoys
What else?
What else should be important?

Suffereing?
You had enough of that
Give a break
Break to your suffering
Break to your heartache
Give a break to your
Feelings for the homeless
Why?
You must feel so much
For the un-fortunate?

They are not your homeless
They are the govt's homeless
Let them feel the pain
Let me ask you a question
Are you a homeless?
No.
Ok, good enough
Thank god for that

Did you come here to be homeless?
No.
Ok, good enough
Now stop worrying about them
Let the goverment worry about them
You are not the leader of this country
Are you?
No.
Ok, good enough

Then stop
Just stop today
Because this is the last session
By your private therapist
She got another patient
She is leaving you
She is going away
For good
Don't cry
Cries are not going to do any good

You have been crying
Since I have been treating you
Nothing changed
You just worried abot this
And that
Stop worrying about the war
War in whichever country
They are not going to stop
You will be dead and gone
And there will be wars still

You are not a general
You are not a country
You are not a bomb
You don't have enemies
Except that you have
Made yourself an enemy of your self
STOP FIGHTING THE BATTLE
  AGAINST YOURSELF

Do it now
Right now
This instance
I am going away
I am going away for good
I like you
You are a good person
But you are too much
Far too much
I wonder how the hell
Do you live with yourself?

I am going away
I am telling you for the last time
It's not your battle
The bad things happening
To people in the world
It's not your battle
As long as you are not
Doing bad things to others
Leave it alone now

You did your duty
Your values and your sense
Of morality and goodness
Is not only boring
But it's harming you
Harming you sweetheart
Really hurting you
It has gone to your immune system
Gone right down to your bones
save your self
Stop........

Do little things every day
Tiny little beautiful things
Like thinking,
Reading,
Walking,
Exploring,
Watching,
Observing,
Having coffee
Thinking again,
Reading again,
Writing

But you think you are
Not a writer
That's fine too
But still write
Just for fun
Why not?
Learn to write
If you don't know it
Learn like people learn
The piano..

Just do things for doing's sake
For fun...
For pleasure
Why any interest of your's
 Should give you pain?
Why should you continue with
What gives you pain?
Isn't enough pain around you?

Don't let it stick to your skin
You are not home
You are outside
If the pain sticks to your skin
You will have to rush back home
To take a shower
To avoid allergy and other dangerous stuff
And you just came out for a walk...

Tell the pain
Could you please go away for a while
So I can enjoy my walk?
Could you please go away for a while
So I can enjoy my coffee?
So I can enjoy reading my new book
The book I just bought...?
Please, pain, my good friend, go away
Arn't you bored with me?

You should be
I have become a big bore lately...
Remember me?
Remember, how hilariously funny
I used to be?
You still are a darling...
You still are

And this is the last time
I am telling you
You will be all alone after today
And if you want to bring
All that un-necessary sorrow
You have created for yourself
And be awake with it all night
You are welcome to it darling

Who is there to stop you?
No, not me...
I am going to France,
To Provance
I got a French patient now
I always wanted a French patient
I love the way they speak
I love their accent
It's wonderful to hear
About their pain in French
It's such a melodious language

I never feel I am hearing any sad thing
When I listen to French people
It's always a romantic song
At least it sounds like it...
That melancholy expressed in French
While we are both having madylne and coffee
 I just want to take that private plan
Right now to see my rich and melodious patient

Do't get me wrong
You were also melodious
In the beginning
Very human, very sensitive
But that has turned into tyranny
Your own tyranny against yourself
Don't surrender to your own tyranny
It's so boring and old fashioned

We are in a new world
We are in new times
We have social media
To get involved with...
Maybe it takes care of the pain
It must do something
People are so invovled in it..

Try that...
Sometime it's a good idea
To do things which have not
Much substance...
Have some fans
Not too many though
Remember HERZOG, the great
Film maker said,

"I ALWAYS SEVER MY CONTACTS
WITH FANS INSTANTLY.
IT'S UNHEALTHY."
But he is a different kind of a person
He always stick his head up.
He says, "
I STICK MY HEAD UP,
BECAUSE I KNOW WHO I AM.
I AM AT EASE WITH WHO I AM."

I think you are not at ease with yourself
And lately more and more...
You should self actualise yourself
You might find a gem there...
Or even some cosmetic jewelery
But you might find something
of your taste...
Some surprises...

But you have become too involved
In aggressive tyranny towards yourself
You have to resist that for sure
Resist that also from others at all cost...

Now I have to say final good by to you.
Trust me you are a good personn
Who has a lot of talent, yes you do...
Belive me since you never believed yourself
Don't waste it..your talent I mean
Just reserve it for yourself
You go ahaed and enjoy your talent yourself

Forget about everything else
It's for you
You must admire it yourself
You don't want to crawl in a hole
Because some other so called Important
ASSHOLE doesn't admire it...
Forget it...

Tell me one thing before I leave you
Are you expecting to win a Nobel prize
For your writing?
Are you?
You are not serious...
Ok, good enough...
Since you are not expecting Nobel prize
You should not have an ounce of worry

THAT IS THE ONLY AWARD WORTH WORRYING FOR
AND SINCE THAT IS NOT YOUR WORRY
ALL OTHER MEANINGLESS ANXIETIES
ABOUT WRITING MUST STOP...
THEY MUST PERISH...
BLOWN AWAY WITH THE WIND
OR DROWN IN THE BIG BLUE SEA...

You are a writer, right?
I think so...
All right, then write,  just write.
Write to amuse yourself
Write to express yourself
Write to feel something
Write to feel emotions
Write to feel sensations
Write to see words, your words

On the page...
Your words, your singing birds
And then let them be free
Let them fly away to far away lands
Let them fly to all those unfortunate
Lands where people are suffering
Where people are sad
Where people go through misfortunes
Let your singing birds fly to the mountains
Let your singing birds fly to the valley...

Let your singing birds fly and fall like
Petals in some one's hands
For comfort...
Let your singing birds sooth some one's soul
In foreign lands
Let your singing birds visit
The graves of your ancestors...
And whisper...
I miss you...I miss you so much...
Your singing birds will comfort clouds
In the sky and the dew drops on the petals
of roses in the gardens...
That is why you must write
The singing birds are hungry for your words
The singing birds will carry your melodious
words far and wide...far and wide...

Good by, my sweetheart of a patient
May my parting words ease the sadness in your heart
May, my parting words create more songs
For your singing birds to sing on the top of the moutains
and float on the waves of the occean...
DEEP BLUE SEA IS WAITING FOR YOUR SONGS....
I WILL BE WAITING FOR YOUR SONGS...
YES, IN PROVANCE...YOUR SONGS WILL VISIT ME...
GOOD BY NOW............

Come visit me
But heal first...
Your own words
Are there to heal you
They have no other purpose...

And through that very purpose
They will heal all the things you love
Things living and dead........