A short surrealistic script that border on theatre of the absurd.  2 male actors but can also be played by 2 females.  Tragi-comedy. 


Dod: I can’t remember.
Jeffrey: What do you mean you can’t remember?
Dod: I can’t get a grip of myself.
Jeffrey: Give me an example.
Dod: I don’t know who the I am.

Jeffrey: You are Dod.
Dod: What does that mean?
Jeffrey: That is your name.
Dod: I don’t like that name. Call me something else.
Jeffrey: What can I possibly call you?
Dod: Anything.
Jeffrey: How about Ge—
Dod: No. Call me anything.
Jeffrey: Anything?
Dod: That is my name.
Jeffrey: …Anything.
Dod: Yes?
Jeffrey: Do you feel better?
Dod: No. (beat) I still don’t know who I am.
Jeffrey: Do you know who I am?
Dod: No.
Jeffrey: I’m your friend.
Dod: No.
Jeffrey: Yes.
Dod: How can I be certain?
Jeffrey: I told you so.
Dod: That does not make it certain.
Jeffrey: Good point.
Dod: I am not sick.
Jeffrey: No.
Dod: I am not sick but I don’t remember. I can’t remember. I am empty of life.
Jeffrey: You don’t have memories?
Dod: No.
Jeffrey: What is the last thing you remember?
Dod: I don’t.
Jeffrey: How far back does your mind go?
Dod: I remember being born.
Jeffrey: That’s a good memory.
Dod: I don’t.
Jeffrey: Oh. What do you remember?
Dod: I remember…that I don’t remember. I don’t remember the woman who broke my heart…I don’t remember the house I grew up in…or my mother or father…my sister…I don’t remember my grandmother and friends…the school I attended…the career path I’ve chosen…the work I’ve created…I don’t remember my favorite color, my favorite film…smell, joyful places…I don’t remember that time you hurt me and disappointed me so deeply that I do not know how to remain friends with you any longer. I no longer remember my dog or that time she bit that woman in the stomach to protect me, the fight I had with the biggest kid in school to defend my best friends brother, the time I broke into a car and tried to steal a radio, the time when…when…all the turmoil and rage and disgust…the politics and history and disease…my mind…I don’t remember what I feel, what I hate, what I desire and need…the arguments, the laughs, the battles lost and won…the people I have hurt…I don’t know why it has all poured out from me, faded…gone.
Jeffrey: Maybe you don’t want to remember what you can’t remember.
Dod: I can’t remember, I can’t.

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