The screenplay
1] -Talk to me.
2] I’m saying it. I’m thinking of it. Oh yes, I do. I am thinking, crawling among my own thoughts that grip at my insides. I’d rather puke, I’d feel better, maybe I’d be alright at last. But I just can’t. It’s not allowed here. They make me sick. You make me sick.
3] -Talk to me. Just for a while. Tell me who you are, I’m begging you. What do you want from me? WHAT ON EARTH DO YOU WANT FROM US? Just talk.
4] We are here, oh yes we are! You and me. In this cursed place, out in the middle of fucking nowhere. This place is useless. Just like you…
5] -You stink. You know that, don’t you? You’re here, and you’re going to die. You have been defeated.
6] – Was that a shudder you gave? And why’s that? You never even understood a single word I said, and now you shudder? On your knees! Stay put. Pray your God, who’s not my God by the way, pray your God! This is hell for those like you. You’re neither dead nor alive. Keep still like I say, and pray your God because I’m telling you to. I’ll have a smoke, if you don’t mind of course.
7] You’re not like me. I hate you ’cause you’re not like me. You terrify me ’cause you’re not like me, we’re actually different people. And I am the good one. That’s the point: I am the good one, or tell me that I’m wrong, that I am the fool. Just tell me I am wrong, ’cause..
8] – I’m looking at you, I’m touching you – you feel me? – I was wondering about you, I was thinking you were less rough, less dark. You’re a mess. You’re a dog, cooped up in a cage. And I’d like to kill you here and now so fuck you motherfucker!
9] I’m looking at you. In your tiny little cage. I’m looking at you and I blame you and I’d spit on you my whole useless life as a soldier who can’t say no. I’m afraid courage is a gun I can no longer shoot. I’m afraid nobody will understand us, I know for sure nobody will understand me. I’ll only have a hundred years of bravery to swap in exchange for a little forgiveness. A hundred tired years of bravery in exchange for this millenarian hatred.
10] – And what about you, my friend? Would you forgive me? If you were my God what would you do? Would you forgive me or what? Would you hate me like he does, this one beside me, or would you save me for good? Do you know what it’s like to be here? I am. I hate this place, I… I just hate it, I hate you- I HATE YOU- I hate you.
11] You people don’t know what it’s like to be here, you just can’t understand. It’s November and the heat kills me: this is hell even for those like me, those who are unable to say “no”. This is my private hell. Drowned in a country that hasn’t asked anything of us in decades, nothing but to let them be. Being here, wearing this uniform for ever… this heavy rifle. I’m going to die.
12] – Aiwa, buddy. I’m leaving. This is the end. And I hate you. You murdered me. For I am you, as you are me: inshallah.
13] As it gets darker and darker I can feel it. And everything’s over. As the wind is getting wilder, in the night, everything’s over. Let the shore of this fucking communist wash me, or just graze me, or take me away. Let this sea set me free then, undress me and leave me as my God intended me to be, stripped of everything my own country ever gave me, and of the lie of freedom. Now I feel the warmth of a sea that I didn’t know: I regret. And the waves washing my legs and penis: I’m sinking.
14] Just following the currents, breathing the life of this cursed nation that fades away and all the ghosts we have poured in into it, through the foam of the waves that are making me blind, I find the sweet memory of the country that was mine and has betrayed me. Sinking in the sea cold and dark, I’m running away just like them, dreaming of my wife’s lips. As I follow the thick reflection of the moon I’m almost lost yelling my perfect desperate dream. An exile in my own homeland, a stowaway, a deserter; I’m gonna make it, or maybe I’ll die, keep on swimming with no stops along the way and little guidance, anticipating the salty taste of Florida.
