‘You fucking idiot’ can be used independently as well as part of the sentence



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Hi lovely, all that is written in red are various notes and messages from me to you. I have numbered the voice overs (VO), and those numbers match the actual sound files that I have just sent you via wetransfer. Let’s hook up when you have a few demos. Thank you. x
1) YOU’RE JUST DUMB AND STUPID, AREN’T YOU? WHAT A WASTE OF SPACE YOU FUCKING IDIOT.
‘You fucking idiot’ can be used independently as well as part of the sentence
2) GO ON, GO, GO. JUST GO, WILL YOU? GO AND TELL HER. SHE’S NOT YOUR FRIEND, SHE’S TRYING TO HURT YOU. SHE WANTS TO STEAL YOUR FAMILY, SHE IS DANGEROUS.

3) THERE IS NOTHING HERE FOR YOU. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? WE’RE JUST WAITING FOR YOU TO DIE, THE WORLD KNOWS ABOUT YOU. WE ALL DO. YOU’VE GOT TO GO. YOUR TIME HERE HAS COME TO AN END, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? GO, GO, FUCK OFF.
‘Fuck off’ can be used independently as well as part of the sentence
ABUSIVE VOICES

4) Teasing laughter.
5) You are useless. (We recorded different versions of this... you can choose what you think sounds the meanest).
6) Shut up you idiot, you're a fucking nightmare, I hate you, die you waste of space!
7) We won’t let you sleep (slow and fast versions. Could we try with overlapping them?)
8) Dieeeeee!
9) Stop smoking. Stop drinking. Read the bible. (not so keen on this one)
10) You fucking asshole.... Burn in hell.


  1. You are the most evil motherf*cker on the face of the planet. Jesus Christ is trying to talk to you!"




  1. You are not going to hell, you are in it

SUFFERER's INNER TALK
13) They're all watching me, they want to get rid of me. (2nd take)

14) I can't .... I can't ... I just can't go on like this

(to be used as a sentence, but also to use the second version, which is a back to back of I can’t, I can’t, I can’t etc...)


  1. (a desperate cry for help) Improvisation please.


I wonder how would it sound to mix above voice over with laughter.


  1. (putting up a child voice) Mummy. Mummy? (second version to be used, the child voice one)


17) Do not trust them. At work they were telling me not to return phone calls trying to protect me from angry people. They also try to tell me who is against me and they get me paranoid from it. Now they tell me to cut myself. They made me carve DIE in my wrist yesterday. (version with IN my wrist)

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY - FINAL SCENE - KARIN

by Ingmar Bergman

(second version. Also, we recorded scream separately... which can be used as part of or as an independent scream)
KARIN: I came as quickly as I could, but it wasn’t easy, there are many who would stop me. I am so happy. Yes, I understand (pause). I understand. Yes. I know it won’t be long now. It’s a great comfort to know that, but our waiting has been a time of joy.

(someone is walking towards you) Walk here quietly. They say he’ll be here any moment now. We must be ready.

OTHER PERSON: You must be mistaken, nothing is happening here Karin. No god is going to walk through that door.

KARIN: he’ll be here any moment now. And I must be here

OTHER PERSON: Dearest Karin, it’s not true

KARIN: If you can’t be quiet you’d best leave

OTHER PERSON: come!

KARIN: Why must you spoil it? Kneel down with me. (pause).

SCREAM
(of paragraph below: 1st take: good 1st half; 2nd take: good 2nd half; 3rd take starts from ‘I was frightened’)

I was frightened, the door opened but the god that came out was a spider. He came towards me and I saw his face. It was a terrible stony face. He crawled up and forced himself on me. But I fought him. The whole time I saw his eyes they were cold and calm. When he couldn’t penetrate me he continued up my chest, up onto my face and up onto the wall.


TO BE WHISPERED TO MIC
(with this I wonder whether we could have an ongoing track with whispers, however some key words -which I will colour in red- I would like to hear clearly, and therefore fade out all other sounds so that I can clearly hear the whisper of said key words... if that makes sense. Also, I wonder how it would sound to have both, Christine and Yasmine’s reading going at the same time???)
Experimental research into language in schizophrenia has been guided traditionally by two main assumptions: that language disturbance is widespread among schizophrenic patients and easy to detect and measure, and that schizophrenia is fundamentally a cognitive disorder in which language disturbance is part of an inability or failure to regulate one's thoughts. However, recent findings have challenged both assumptions. Two experiments are reported here, the first based on monologues, the second on conversations, which were subjected to reconstruction and discourse analyses. Schizophrenic material is found to be harder to follow than normal, and is characterised by poor reference networks and inappropriate use of questions. While some of the results are specific to the schizophrenic group, others are found also in affective patients, but none is the product of formal thought disorder. The central problem lies less in cognition than in the social process of taking the role of the other.

It all started in Jamaica ( I wish I never went ) At first I thought that I was a psychic and I could read minds of people near me. I though it was a gift from god but later would come to see it was a burden rather than a gift. The voices would always comment about me and what I was doing. They convinced me to believe that every thing I did was evil. This made me paranoid to the extent that I would change my life style to adhere to the voices. I would drive around for days trying to loose them from following me. l finally got home and locked myself in my room to be away from them. But that didn't stop them. I heard my neighbors talking about me so I took heavy blanket and covered the windows. I still heard my neighbors but how could that be there was no way they could see what was going on in my room. I got so mad that I yelled to the voices to stop. That was a big mistake, now they knew that I could hold conversations with them. These conversations drove me to insanity. Every second was a nightmare, I was lost, scared and soon self injury inflicting. I would stop breathing thinking that if I did the voice that I was talking to wouldn't be able to breath too. I was trying to punish the voices for not listening to me. That didn't work so I started to hit my head so hard I would get enormous welts and bruises. I didn't know what was going on and what to do. So I called my deceased grandfather to help me. He told me that he has tried to help me but was not able to. The more I call out for him the angrier he got. Finally he became the devil and said "this is for all the evil you have done there is no hell, you are in it". Soon after I thought that if I become a monk at a buddhist temple I would be at peace? At this point the voices were so strong I was separated from reality. I couldn't drive and couldn't even walk form point A to B. Using my last effort I called my brother to take me to a temple. Instead he took me to get psychiatric help. I owe him my life. I knew I was going to kill myself soon, to end the pain. After some treatment I am much better. I hardly hear my voices and when I do I just ignore it. Some times if Im driving with someone I will think that person commented to me about something and I will reply with an answer. They will say "what are you talking about" or "what?" Then I'll just say never mind, I was just talking out loud.

MACBETH
A monologue from the play by William Shakespeare

LADY MACBETH:
He has almost supped. Why have you left the chamber?

Was the hope drunk

Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since?

And wakes it now to look so green and pale

At what it did so freely? From this time

Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard

To be the same in thine own act and valor

As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that

Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,

And live a coward in thine own esteem,

Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would,"

Like the poor cat i' the adage?

What beast was't then

That made you break this enterprise to me?

When you durst do it, then you were a man;

And to be more than what you were, you would

Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place

Did then adhere, and yet you would make both.

They have made themselves, and that their fitness now

Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know

How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:

I would, while it was smiling in my face,

Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums

And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you

Have done this. If we should fail?

Screw your courage to the sticking place

And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep

(Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey

Soundly invite him), his two chamberlains

Will I with wine and wassail so convince

That memory, the warder of the brain,

Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason

A limbeck only. When in swinish sleep

Their drenchèd natures lies as in a death,

What cannot you and I perform upon

Th' unguarded Duncan? what not put upon

His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt

Of our great quell?


MONOLOGUE
I took the blows in my face and my body! All of those deaths! The long parade to the graveyard! Mother, that dreadful way! So big with it, couldn't be put in a coffin! But had to be burned like rubbish! You just came home in time for the funerals. And funerals are pretty compared to deaths. Funerals are quiet, but deaths- not always. Sometimes their breathing is hoarse, and sometimes it rattles, and sometimes they even cry out to you, "Don't let me go!" Even the old, sometimes, say, "Don't let me go." As if you were able to stop them! But funerals are quiet, with pretty flowers. And, oh, what gorgeous boxes they pack them away in! Unless you were there at the bed when they cried out, "Hold me!" you'd never suspect there was a struggle for breath and bleeding. You didn't dream, but I saw! Saw! Saw!  And now you sit here telling me with your eyes that I let the place go! How in hell do you think all that sickness and dying was paid for? Death is expensive. Why, the Grim Reaper had put up his tent on our doorstep! ? Which of them left us a fortune? Which of them left a cent of insurance even? Only poor me- one hundred to pay for her coffin. That was all.   Yes, accuse me! Sit there and stare at me, thinking it’s all my fault. You can’t get rid of me, I know you want to, and I know you are watching me every minute of the day.

(bit above in red, discard)




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