Original subtitles

Where is the tape?

Hey, do you know where the tape is?

I gotta have it now.

There is a sofa in the street.

A microwave oven.

Hamburger buns.

Thirteen Roman coins.

Ten East German stamps.

Christina Aguilera's autograph.

Paris Hilton's autograph.

A medal that was awarded-

-to all those who helped to clean up after Chernobyl.

Speeches by Leonid Brezhnev on a double LP.

You must wipe the table as well.

Use a dish cloth.

Use a little warm water to wipe the table.

If I was a boy I would have sex with Paris Hilton all day long.

Then again, I am not a boy.

I am a girl in a boy's body.

Teddy bear, monkey, doll, ball.

The skin's natural mechanism for cell renewal.

An exfoliation for eternally fresh and smooth skin.

A mountain of shoes.

Seven tons of hair.

Hamburger buns with, or without sesame seeds.

Immersed in a thousand kilos of eight hour cream,-

-cortisone, loco base.

Airport.

Mother's valium.

Virus.

Pig.

Apartment 28.

One centimetre.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Lipstick.

Acetone.

Sugar.

Big, big sausages.

Life is so hard and squared.

I have very sensitive mucous membranes.

Brad Pitt is gonna move to Sweden just for me.

Say goodbye to your mother.

There is your son with deep cuts in his head.

The beautiful, wonderful, fantastic girl who lives inside you.

Your inner little me.

The worlds most beautiful, most glamorous little me-

-who goes to all the parties.

The 19th of June.

I sleep like a tree with Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen-

-on either side of me.

A belt around my neck 20 meters.

Separate faeces from urine.

One times one and a half meters.

Chemicals, electricity.

A glowing cigarette in my ear, naked against each other.

I'll cry if you do not wanna be my friend.

I'll be unhappy for the rest of my life-

-if you do not wanna be my friend.

It doesn't matter that I have only seen you in the movies.

I love you anyway.

I cannot live without you.

I am hiding within you.

I have nowhere else to go.

I crept inside you.

And got stuck.

I am your child.

Your little baby.

No, you are not my child.

You are just some fucking growth.

I'll cut you out like an appendix.

Will you stop groping me.

I don't want you anymore.

You do not exist.

It's over.

And then there was this idiot who hacked into my cell phone.

And took all the pictures I had in it and put them on the internet.

243 grams of bread.

36 grams of meat.

18 grams of fat.

11 grams of corn flakes.

8 grams of sugar.

3 grams of cheese.

5 grams of marmalade.

5 grams of coffee substitute.

They said on TV that I had a migraine attack.

They said that I had checked into a new hotel.

A chequered blanket.

A vaccine certificate.

A concrete foundation.

Today we know that all matters-

-built up of incredibly tiny building stones called atoms.

Have you ever worked at a rest home?

Do you know why popcorn pops?

Will you please get the knife out now?

Will you cut it off now?

You fucking retard.

I take anything I get my hands on.

Food,

Love,

Drugs,

The subway,

C-section,

Anything.

Pizza parlour.

Why should I say no?

You only live once.

I saw this thing on TV about Sudan.

That's when I decided to go there, try to help stop the war.

But while I was sitting in the taxi,-

-I noticed the driver was looking at me.

And I realised he recognized me.

And he thought that I was cute.

So then I asked if he wanted to have sex with me.

And he did.

So then he got to.

And unfortunately I missed my plane.

So I never made it to Sudan.

But as soon as the filming of this movie is done, I'll go there.

Cause it's so horrible.

There are people dying all the time.

I clean and I clean.

Where does all this dust come from?

Why should I clean when there are people dying?

What does it matter if I clean.

I can't watch TV anymore.

Mucous membranes.

Connective tissue.

Placenta.

The newly installed shower.

The mouth.

The drain.

The slime plug.

French fries.

Mayonnaise.

I remember nothing.

I only remember that I felt sick, and went out to get a little air.

Then the rest is blank.

I have a cloudy memory of sitting in a taxi-

-with a lot of people that I didn't know.

They where laughing at me.

They made fun of my clothes.

And then I think I threw up all over the floor of the taxi.

Then there was a voice that said:

Be welcomed, oh blessed one.

The lord is with you.

I must be some kind of magnet.

I cannot go to the grocery store to buy an apple-

-without all apples flying at me.

And all the faces, and the entire floor.

And I think about the carpenter.

The guy who made sure there was a floor-

-that I could walk on in the store.

What if he's dead or sick.

What if his daughter is ugly and wears glasses.

And no guys want to go out with her.

But just today there was a guy-

-who asked if she wanted to go out with him.

And for a second she was so happy,-

-because she thought he really meant it.

But it was just a joke.

His friends where around the corner laughing.

It feels like the whole world is forcing its way inside me.

Leaving something inside.

Something that chafes inside me.

That scrapes inside my stomach.

Like a little baby.

A little parasite.

I think I am the Virgin Mary.

When I walk down the street everyone looks at me.

It's because I'm famous.

They whisper my name.

Look, did you see who that was?

But I just walk past.

I pretend that I didn't hear.

But I know exactly what they are saying.

I know exactly what they want.

They want to attack me and tear me into pieces.

My particular interests are:

Celebrities,

The second world war,

Collecting different things,

Paris Hilton,

Different methods of torture,

Different dead porn stars,

Like for example Savannah,

God,

Jesus,

Mary,

As well as various catastrophes.

Like for example nuclear disasters.

Like for example the nuclear disaster at Chernobyl.

I can see it all before me.

Inside my head.

There is like a box labelled catastrophes.

And inside that box there is another labelled nuclear disasters.

And inside that box there is a third labelled Chernobyl.

Than I take a carton of yogurt.

And the yogurt symbolize all of my life force.

Then I pour all the yogurt, I mean, my life force.

Into the box labelled Chernobyl.

Because I'm going to cool the reactor with the yogurt.

And everything turns white.

Because I am a superhero who helps mankind.

Gay people are having children.

What is the point of being gay.

If you're going to live just like everyone else.

Everyone thinks I am gay, but I am not.

They called me a faggot when I was seven years old.

But I borrowed a book from the library,-

-so I know that I am something else.

I am a woman.

Which is not really the same as being gay, is it?

The fact is I hate gays.

I think homosexuality has become a cancerous tumour on society.

You are not allowed to say that.

But I am saying it anyway.

Stop, nobody listens when you say things like that.

You just make yourself ridiculous.

Then I took a stroll in town wearing my new clothes.

I followed a guy, who was so drunk he could hardly walk.

Then I took efamol.

Highly concentrated evening primrose oil.

Essential fatty acids that are important for my hormonal balance-

-and for my skin.

A 1000 mg per capsule.

Sulphur.

Ammonia.

Hi honey.

Where are you?

An egg cup.

A city built out of ribs.

Why can't I, who according to all the votes-

-is one of the sexiest women in the world, hang on to my men.

Yes please.

Farewell.

Nice to have met you.

See you soon.

Goodbye.

Then I lived in Madrid for two years.

I lived like a transvestite, but I was not a transvestite.

I lived in a tiny, tiny apartment with a guy from Romania.

I think he was a gypsy.

But he only admitted it once.

When he was so high, so high.

So that his head was so high up in the clouds,-

-he could poke God in the butt.

That's when he said he was a gypsy.

Later I walked back and forth outside Gucci, and Prada and Dior.

Hoping David Beckham would come out.

And then I would trip.

And he would help me up.

And then he would see who I was.

And then he would see that I was his lost... little boy.

What are you waiting for?

For me to jump out of the window?

Is that what you are waiting for?

Then your problem is solved.

Or should I cut it off myself?

Is that what you want?

Won't you please take out the knife now?

Please.

Can't we do it now, today.

Because today I have the most beautiful eyes in the whole world.

I'm on the cover of all the magazines.

Today I can do anything.

Here comes Whitney Houston.

I'll help her get on track again.

I have my own apartment.

I can go out with as many guys as I like.

No you cannot.

Yes I can.

The subway is full of idiots who are going to die.

But then the next day after you had come back to earth again-

-you denied the whole thing.

He said he wasn't a gypsy at all.

Than he said he was from Hungary.

But I knew he wasn't.

Because I had licked his passport.

I licked and I licked.

And could tell by the taste that it was not a Hungarian passport.

I am actually a woman.

I don't want it anymore.

I don't want to have a Willie between my legs.

It does not feel very nice to be a woman-

-and have a huge Willie hanging between my legs.

If you don't take it off now I'll just cut it off myself.

I don't wanna talk to anymore counsellors.

Bloody pissant.

Stop pissing in my stomach.

Fine, so get rid of me so you don't have to deal with me.

And I don't have to deal with you.

I don't wanna be inside you any longer.

I don't wanna be in this movie.

I was at a party and my breast fell out... and everyone laughed at me.

And they thought I had let my breast pop out on purpose.

Because I wanted the photographer to take tons of pictures of me.

But it was really a mistake.

Cause my dress was so small.

I don't know how it happened, it was not on purpose.

I miss you so much.

I love you.

I can't live without you.

But what are you talking about?

What do you mean, miss me.

I'm here with you.

Everyone thinks I have breast implants.

But I don't.

Why doesn't anyone believe me?

Won't you please let me go?

Please.

I don't wanna be locked up inside this disgusting body anymore.

Everything bleeds, and stinks.

Snot runs.

Urine flows.

I sit in front of the TV wearing a diaper.

The school cafeteria is full of fools who are going to die.

Michael Bronson you are going to die.

Jonathan Metler you are going to die.

Susan Voight you've ruined my life.

Do you get it? You are gonna die.

Do you get it?

Why is everything so sad?

Why is everything, everything, everything so sad?

Why do we live such short lives?

Why can't we go on forever?

I don't wanna look like this.

I don't want these thighs.

I eat six raisins for lunch.

My skin smells like aspirin.

There are such strange rumours about me.

Five small embryos.

One transformer.

One bathroom mat.

Hello.

Nail fell off.

I don't think that people understand what it means-

-to be as famous as I am.

Imagine that as soon as you open the door,-

-hundreds of photographers start taking pictures.

There is no escape.

When you're on vacation they are there.

When you go out to eat they are there.

When you are sitting in your car crying,-

-they are out there in the dark.

Trying to kill you with their lightning flashes.

It's like prison.

It's a nightmare.

But it's a nightmare you become addicted to.

It's like heroin.

If you stop you feel even worse.

You lie on the floor shaking.

You can't get up.

You throw up on the floor.

You put your hand in your own vomit.

You didn't mean to.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.

Sorry.

It just happened.

I can't control my movements.

I try to get up but fall down again.

I really prefer organic products.

After a day at work with enormous amounts of make up on my face.

I wash it all away with Shu Uemuras Cleansing Oil.

My skin feels both smooth and clean.

Salmon.

Strawberries.

Oat meal.

Nuts.

Chicken.

Oranges.

Carrots.

Omega 3 foundation.

Lip-gloss Sun Powder Melon.

Lavender Ylang-ylang.

If I don't get enough rest I always use midnight secret from Guerlain.

Le Crayon Khol Hydro Power Eye Shadow.

Chrystal balm meteorites.

Blush delicieux light drops.

Glam shine microshadow.

Earth spirits star gloss.

Sheer radiance yogurt massage.

Anti-age around my mouth.

24 hour non stop moisturizing.

5000 litres of thermal water in a little jar.

The party is visible between my eyebrows and my forehead reveals.

Vertical wrinkles on my cheeks as a result of breathing problems.

Micro cushions seeps into the nail beds.

My skin is rejuvenated from within.

I changed in the taxi.

I love champagne.

I have the world's most beautiful eyes.

No, I'm sorry, I can't speak any longer, I must go now.

There are 30 thousand people who die of hunger every day.

And there is an old man who has promised me 500 dollars-

-if I spend the entire night with him.

And with that kind of money I can save the lives of one or two people.

Yes, I know that Bamse is a cartoon character.

I know that he was created by Rune Andréasson.

People should try to be as kind as Bamse.

Don't you agree?

People should always try to be kind.

That was the purpose of Rune Andréasson's comic book.

If not, then all Rune Andréasson's work is in vain.

That is true. It is all in vain.

My mouth is full of gelatine.

Huge bathtubs full of boiling animal skeletons.

My blood is full of fat.

There are so many things you have to do.

Wash the dishes,

Laundry,

Go to the bathroom.

You gotta have money so you can pay the bills.

Suddenly it's like I can see into the future.

I dreamed that Brad Pitt broke up with Jennifer Aniston.

He got tired of her because she was no longer Rachel.

And then in the morning I read that they where going to get a divorce.

So then I thought that everything I dream becomes reality.

And I became so scared that I have not dared to go to sleep since then.

There is so much hate in my love.

There is so much love in my hate.

I wore the most tasteless dress of them all.

At P. Diddys 35th birthday party.

I want you to stay with me.

I'm so scared that something will happen to you.

It's so dangerous out there.

People run right into each other.

Like panes of glass.

They brake and cut each other.

There are so many drugs that they can drop in your drink-

-if you turn your head away just for a second.

Then you fall asleep and they rape you.

And take all of your things.

And put you in prison.

And I may only see you from the other side of a thick window-

-made of armoured glass.

I cannot touch you.

But suddenly Britney Spears appears.

She lifts you up and tells you not to be afraid.

She opens her mouth and puts you in.

And then she swallows.

And down you go into her stomach.

And suddenly I'm in Romania.

How the hell did all of Romania get inside Britney Spears?

Good God I've become so fat.

You are not fat.

I used to be so very thin.

You are still thin.

I've become so fat.

I think I'm pregnant.

But you can't be.

Yes, I'm pregnant.

But you can't be.

Yes I can.

But we haven't slept with each other.

No, I know. It's a miracle.

A bunch of paparazzi hiding in the bushes around the stable.

Where the virgin Mary is just about to give birth to Jesus-

-they are trying to get a shot of her tits.

Oh God what a turn on.

This is the best party I've ever been to, it never ends.

Everyone just dies all the time, like flies.

This is the happiest moment of my life:

I'm sitting at the kitchen table playing table hockey with my father.

I'm the Soviet Union, he's Sweden.

It's evening. It's dark outside.

A lamp shines above the table.

It's just my father and I.

It is as if we were embraced in a cocoon of light,-

-and outside our little cocoon there's a great darkness.

And then there was this man,-

-who is in charge of the County Health Department.

He wanted to bathe and wash me until I was really, really clean.

I cost 200 dollars each time.

And now there is like this crazy custody battle,-

-because nobody wants me anymore.

Not the psych ward nor welfare nor mother nor father.

Which is why I have to live here at the pizza parlour-

-until they decide who is to have me.

But the man who owns the pizza parlour will sell it soon.

And then I don't know where to go.

You'll just have to live-

-inside your grandmother's disgusting hip-replacement.

So totally fucking disgusting.

Won't you please just come here and give me a hug.

I'm so sad about everything.

I'm so sad about how we live our lives and the state of the world.

But I am also very satisfied with being as sad as I am.

I enjoy distancing myself from it all.

For then I become a little superior and I am exalted like a saint.

But then I must punish myself.

Then I must force myself to eat four bags of chips.

I'm dilated five centimetres.

You stick your finger in the hole.

I reach inside you with all of my arms.

You are dilated six centimetres.

A black box inside your heart.

There is a cake in there, waiting for you.

I take vitamins every day.

I go to the hospital.

How can someone as little as I am have room for something so big?

How can someone as dirty as I am have room for something so clean?

I go to the hospital every day.

I sit in the waiting room until they close.

I have nowhere else to go.

God transform this prayer into fire.

I just want to dance.

But there is only ice in the freezer.

A bunch of people dressed as animals.

A doll's carriage.

A kettle.

A transformer.

You are the world's best mother.

I have got a touch of diarrhoea.

Hello everyone.

I shall begin by showing you some of my latest purchases from eBay.

This is something very special.

It's a pair of black leather boots which belonged to Savannah.

The legendary porn star Savannah.

Who I love very, very much.

I have always had a soft spot-

-for a certain type of beautiful but tragic women.

I always identified myself with them very strongly,-

-and so very much more,-

-not just identified myself with them,-

-I have also felt that after death-

-their souls have moved into me and now continue to live inside me.

These boots are the most expensive I have ever bought.

In second place is this letter from Auschwitz.

It is a prisoner writing to the one he loves.

He writes:

You my sun.

The only one in my life.

I am healthy and I am well.

In third place is this German helmet from the second world war.

In fourth place is a collection of letters addressed to Savannah.

They are written by various admirers.

Dear Miss Savannah.

You epitomize American beauty.

Blond hair, baby blue eyes,-

-and an ass that any man or woman would sell their soul to possess.

An ass that any man or woman would sell their soul to possess.

And here is a guy asking her for help.

I am wondering if I am missing out on something.

Some days I get a strange feeling.

I lie in bed and wonder if this is it.

If this is all there is to life.

If this is all there is to life, I might as well put an end to it.

But then when I am together with someone-

-and we are consumed by passion,-

-then it feels as though I am on top of the world.

Like I own the world.

How can one go from feeling so empty to feeling so wonderful?

Do you understand what I am saying?

What am I missing?

What am I missing?

Do you have feelings like these?

And how do you deal with them?

Please write me at the above address and tell me what you think.

It would be greatly appreciated.

I sit alone in my hotel room.

I have to learn my lines for tomorrow.

I would really prefer to go out to see the city

But it is such a challenge.

So many people crowd around me.

It just turns into chaos. I can't stand it.

I stay in my room and order something from room service.

Just a small salad.

I do not know who I am.

I do not know where I come from.

I do not know who my mother is.

I do not know who my father is.

Someone left me outside an orphanage in a basket.

I am terrified.

What am I doing?

I want to go home.

This is my home.

This is all I have.

This is my bed.

This is my toilet.

My bathtub.

My TV.

My remote control.

My mirror.

Dilated seven centimetres.

I can't close the lid.

Everything just pours in.

The TV screen, the sink.

Those tiny tiny bottles of alcohol.

The room key. The do not disturb sign.

All of the movements from those who have stayed in this room,-

-are now passing through me,-

-all of their thoughts are forced into me.

Their breath is forced into me.

Their dreams.

I must lie motionless like this.

Cause if I lie motionless, completely still,-

-the thoughts and dreams will pass right through me,-

-and out of me.

If I relax and don't resist, then they run out of me.

They pass through me.

And continue out into space.

But if I make just the slightest movement,-

-then the thoughts get stuck inside me,-

-and they bounce around inside me like a ball in a pinball machine.

And continue to bounce forever.

And then I break.

I crack from within.

My skin breaks apart.

No.

I am not a celebrity.

I am not an actress.

I just pretend.

I work here at the hotel.

I clean rooms.

And sometimes when a room is empty I pretend that I am staying there,-

-and that I am a famous actress who is making a movie.

And during the filming she is staying here at this hotel.

I am completely torn to shreds and radioactive between my legs.

I am covered by a thick layer of lead and concrete.

No one can come close to me.

Cause they will get cancer and their skin will fall off.

There is cancer everywhere.

There is cancer in your blood.

And you cannot breathe.

And when you cough you spit up blood.

And your skin is totally black.

And there is blood coming from your ears.

And there is blood coming from your nose.

And your teeth are falling out of your mouth.

And your hair is coming out in pieces.

And your nails are coming loose.

And there is blood coming from your eyes.

You have seen too much.

The 11th of July 1994. I have thought so much about that day.

Savannah was in a car crash and got a cut on her face.

She was completely distraught and thought her career was over.

And then she lost the will to live and went home-

-and shot herself in the head.

I wish that I had been there.

I would have licked up all of your blood.

Sucked up your brain from the floor.

And spit it back into your head again.

No can't we just stop now?

I am too tired to make this movie.

I have no energy.

I am too tired.

I have a hole in my head.

It is just getting bigger and bigger.

Now my brains are running out like red flowers in my long blond hair.

I will now leave everything.

I will now leave this planet.

There is no one to eat up all the food in the cupboard.

I will leave behind all the boxes of cereal-

-that I never got when I was little.

The letter I never sent to my father.

All the newspaper articles I saved with such care.

And every time my real name was mentioned-

-I crossed it out with a black magic marker.

So that it disappeared.

And disappeared.

And disappeared.

You are now rotting in the earth, little Savannah.

Little darling.

Your pale skin. And your freckles.

And the little crack that every one wanted to see.

Now we shall never see it again.

No longer can a little Jesus child emerge from there.

Now it no longer exists.

I clean and clean but it doesn't help.

Everyone laughs at me when I put on my prettiest dress.

Did you know that there was one who survived Chernobyl?

It was a miracle.

He was inside the reactor.

All of his colleagues died.

His skin was black.

When they pulled the sheet off at the hospital the skin came with it.

But he survived.

And is still alive.

But his skin doesn't work as it should.

He cannot touch oil because his skin will break.

You have stared straight into the fire, your eyes melt,-

-they are bleeding, your eye sockets are bleeding,-

-you have seen too much, you have touched too much,-

-and there are too many who have touched you,-

-it is a miracle that you live.

It is a miracle that you are still alive.

The doctors cannot explain it.

They say it is a miracle.

I know I only got this part because I'm fat.

I got it because the people at the film company think-

-that all fat people are tragic.

But in reality I am not at all like this role.

It's not me.

It's just a role.

It's not me.

It's not me crawling on the floor.

I need a foot file.

I have calluses on my heels.

My fingers itch all the time.

It is like larvae under my skin.

Did you know that those sick sick people have made a nativity scene-

-with David and Victoria Beckham as Joseph and Mary?

And above it all Kylie Minogue as the angel Gabriel.

I thought about Kylie all night.

I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about her.

She doesn't have any children.

Maybe she cannot have any.

Maybe she wants to have children.

She might have wanted it for years.

Maybe she has tried, over and over again.

Maybe she cannot have any.

If that's the case, I feel sorry for her.

I like her very much.

I want to take care of her in some way.

I want to take her down so she doesn't have to hang like that.

Well here I am hanging with my cute little ass above David and Victoria.

They seem to be able to have as many children as they want.

They could share some of them.

What's the point of having a cute little ass?

What's the point of anything?

You just end up dying.

And then it doesn't matter.

There you lie in your grave with your cute little ass-

-that is not so cute anymore.

It's full of worms.

So why should I take my medicine?

I'm only going to die.

Or have you invented a new medicine that will fix everything?

Then you can make the whole world a paradise.

Where everyone feels good and nobody feels bad-

-and no one feels fat and ugly?

Can you do that?

In that case can you also make sure-

-I do not have to go to anymore Oscar galas?

It's so frustrating, everyone just imitates me.

Everyone wants to wear the same dress,-

-but next year I'll show them, I'll come dressed as an astronaut,-

-and I'll float about in space,-

-and I'll drop an atomic bomb upon the earth,-

-and I'll just fly around in space-

-and watch as you crawl through the ashes,-

-trying to breathe life into your disgusting spoiled brats-

-who no longer have any skin.

I think that winter's most important item is a poncho.

My favourite drink is a strawberry daiquiri.

23rd of November.

Today I tried to leave the apartment-

-but the first thing I saw when I went out there were the headlines.

They said Kylie Minogue has breast cancer-

-and that a nine year old boy died while playing football.

I cannot close my eyes,-

-you have had my eyelids removed.

It's so very very sad.

So very very horrible.

Imagine he just died.

He just collapsed and died.

I cannot live with all this sorrow.

I must chop it up into tiny little pieces.

Please God, why must small children die playing football?

I can't get up.

My legs won't carry me.

Why must Kylie Minogue have breast cancer.

I do not want to live. It is too hard.

I am a disgusting fat truck full of shit.

Cans.

Coca Cola.

Codeine.

A dead bird.

An empty bottle of dish soap.

Skeleton.

Styrofoam.

Ballet shoes.

Implant 0367.

Please don't kick.

Won't you please just lie still in there.

My stomach is completely sore.

I am so tired.

I gotta sleep a bit.

People do not understand how difficult it is.

To walk around carrying another person all the time.

If you don't stop kicking I will get an abortion.

Your little body is so delicate.

Suddenly you are in the emergency room bleeding and bleeding.

My little darling you must be as still as a mouse.

So that nobody hears what you say.

Cause then they might get angry and hit you or kidnap you.

Not knowing is the worst part.

I don't know where you are.

Jesus.

I don't know where you are.

Hello.

I am your mother.

Won't you give me a call.

A fossil of a dinosaur's egg.

A teaspoon in memory of Princess Diana.

A name tag that once belonged to-

-Swedish TV personality Claes Elfsberg.

A plate in memory of Bing Crosby who died in 1977.

A little piece of a meteorite.

A little chip off the Berlin wall.

A carton of milk.

A bag of chips.

My bikini line is growing out.

A mess of thorny branches.

There was someone begging outside of the grocery store,-

-so I told him he could go home with me and take what he wanted.

He was so totally shocked and did not want to go.

I am not like that.

I would have said yes.

And then I would have taken as much as I could carry.

I am not the one to say no.

I say yes to everything.

Refrigerator.

Washing machines. Dishwashers.

A Spice Girls watch.

A letter from the eastern front.

It's addressed to Else Kowalewski in Berlin.

The 7th of April 1944.

A meteorite from an asteroid between Jupiter and Mars.

I cannot close the lid.

There is no lid.

I'm trying to direct this movie, but I can't.

I am so unbelievably pretty.

Everyone wants to be with me all the time.

I have so much money.

I go to so many parties.

I have a boy friend.

He's so handsome.

He thinks I'm so cool and pretty and funny and sexy and smart.

I have such soft skin, such beautiful eyes.

He can lie in bed and just stare into my eyes for hours.

We can stay in bed the whole day.

Just lying there holding each other.

Kissing each other.

Stroking each other.

But suddenly it all ends.

Just like how a song ends.

Suddenly it's quiet, and everything collapses.

Suddenly I realize he doesn't exist, I've been alone the whole time.

I've just been speaking to myself.

I've been stroking myself.

He didn't stroke me.

Cause he doesn't exist.

It's like a blow to the head.

And I want to kill myself.

I am so ashamed of myself.

I am so awful.

I am so disgusting.

I am smelling.

I shouldn't be allowed to live.

And then I cut myself in the arm as deep as I can.

And then I hate myself even more-

-because it's so stereotypical to cut yourself.

Every stupid teenage girl cuts herself.

It's like I'm just imitating others.

I just do what everybody else does.

And then I just want to die.

Good night.

See you in the morning.

What time is it?

Where are my pants?

Monday. Tuesday.

Wednesday. Thursday.

Friday.

This is my husband.

This is my wife.

This is my son.

This is my daughter.

This is my girlfriend.

This is my boyfriend.

I have to shave.

Where are my panties?

This is a copy of Jennifer Lopez's engagement ring.

The real thing cost millions of dollars.

This ring cost ten dollars.

From a small distance you can't see the difference.

But if you come close.

If you get up at six in the morning and begin the day by jogging,-

-and you follow up with weights,-

-then you can see the difference.

And in the afternoon you do double time on the running machine.

Then you can see that I am just a copy.

And in the evening another round of jogging.

Then I fly to Tokyo.

Then I fly to Sao Paulo.

Then I fly to New York.

The monitors inside the airplane show a smashed-in face.

A fried egg.

The fluffy clouds under us.

Poker. Solitaire.

Air temperature -51ºC.

Altitude 10,972 meters.

Speed 832 km/h.

A little baby sleeps in a basket.

A man stands on his toes.

Two women from Germany try to sleep under a red blanket.

The water bottles become compressed.

The smashed face slowly turns upwards towards heaven.

I feel like a hospital bed.

You can lie on top of me now.

Can you see into my eyes?

I bend my body apart and show you the entire crack.

A mountain of clothes.

Four tons of cut hair.

The taxi is wide open.

Here I am kissing Tom Cruise.

Here I am kissing Katie Holmes.

I can't eat.

Why should I eat when children in Africa can't?

The food tastes like ashes or sand or I don't know.

It tastes like someone has vomited on the plate.

Economist, cookies, mustard.

Sibbolet.

Sienna Sinte Lalleri Miller.

My kindergarten burnt down.

I do one hundred sit-ups.

Aaliyah Danguole da Costa

Shannon Antschel Ancel Wilsey.

Russell Crowe's jetlag.

Loneliness.

Adrenalin.

The telephone in my face.

I am healthy and I am well.

My parents have turned their bedroom into a gas chamber.

They received an advantageous stipend.

I run but I don't get anywhere.

It's the same old wimpy me.

Inside the same old pathetic body drenched with cheap perfume.

What do you mean cheap perfume?

It's not cheap perfume, it's Tommy Hilfiger.

No it's not.

It's a crappy cheap copy you bought in Thailand.

You stink like a whore all the way through your skin.

To the depths of your shrunken, brown heart.

That's where I live.

In your disgusting, dirty horrible heart.

I trip and slide and never make it in time.

The house next door is burning.

There's something black in the street.

The ambulance comes.

They roll out a gurney.

I get up from the gurney and walk to the door.

Wanna know what happened when I was born?

What happened was that one day my mother was pregnant.

So then my dad left because he had never slept with my mom.

So it couldn't be his child.

But then an angel with a really cute little ass-

-came to my dad and said that he should not be afraid,-

-cause it was God's child that lay in my mom's stomach.

And the child would save humanity.

So my dad stayed with my mom.

But when I came out of my mom's stomach-

-I wasn't really quite what they had expected.

I didn't look like a normal child.

And it didn't seem as though I was alive.

So they quickly drove me by ambulance to my mother's breast.

But I didn't want to suck.

So they tried to feed me ravioli but I didn't want to eat.

Then they put me on the back of a ladybug.

And the ladybug had to walk around with me on its back.

Cause they thought I might come to life if I had something fun to do.

But it didn't help.

So then they didn't know what to do.

It seemed nothing would help.

So they gave up and threw me into a plastic bag.

And my dad snuck out to throw the plastic bag down the garbage chute.

He opened the door.

And suddenly they all threw themselves upon him.

All my fans.

And all the paparazzi that had gathered outside our door.

They threw themselves upon my dad.

And took the garbage bag from him and ran away with the bag.

The one that I was in.

And then I had to go to a psychologist.

And I had to take medication.

But it really dried out my mouth.

My mouth was so dry that I could no longer leave the apartment-

-because the air out there felt like sand.

And that's why I was late for my own premiere.

It was terrible.

The photographers were out of their mind.

My son was born blind and handicapped because of my addictions.

I have more than 300 pairs of jeans at home in my gigantic closet.

I have had sex with four spice girls.

I am surrounded by tragedy.

I get a shock when I see myself naked.

I never wear panties with jeans cause then your ass looks the best.

When I get hungry I drink a glass of water.

Okay, let's do a little celebrity quiz:

Who never wears panties with jeans?

Who has a son who is blind and handicapped?

Who was late for their own premiere?

Who has had sex with four spice girls?

Who is surrounded by tragedy?

Who drinks a glass of water?

Okay. Here comes the answer.

The answer to all the questions is: Jesus.

We are all Jesus.

Mary is our little disappointed mother.

Joseph is our confused stepfather who doesn't get anything.

Our real biological father is God in heaven.

The same heart beats within us all.

But why was I given this role?

Was it because I was the best?

Or was because I was the prettiest?

What if there were a whole bunch of actors better than me.

But who weren't as pretty or thin or whatever it is.

And why did you happen to stuff your child into my uterus?

Was it because I was pretty?

And was perfect for the pictures-

-you would put up everywhere and in all the churches?

Or was it because I was so young and naive that I didn't dare say no?

It can't just be a matter of coincidence.

Do you believe in coincidence?

I don't.

Which means you must have chosen me.

Did you think I was the sexiest of all the virgins in Palestine?

Was that why?

But are you sure I was a virgin?

What if it isn't your child?

Wouldn't that be a little embarrassing?

What if I just lied to you-

-when I said I had never been with another man?

What if there are places not even you can see?

Are there such places?

0735-033938.

There are places where my dad doesn't see me.

Small recesses.

Where I feel so alone.

Where I feel so free.

My psychologist says I have to stop reading gossip magazines,-

-or at least cut down.

But you're so cute.

I'm getting senile.

You have such lovely eyes.

You are so pretty.

I'm getting cancer.

Parkinson's.

Alzheimer's.

ADD.

I gotta have a shovel.

A box.

All gone.

Eight centimetres.

Here in this box I lay down all my love for you.

Here I lay down all my love for you.

Here I lay down all my love.

I need to use my mouth.

I need to use all of my intestines.

You are so sweet.

You are just like me.

It's like I'm just looking at myself,

I think we met when we were small.

I think we met on a ferry somewhere.

Now spread you legs please.

I'm going to shove my bacteria into you.

And the bacteria grows to be a little tree.

And the tree grows into a rope.

And the rope stiffens to a chain.

And the chain is so strong that it will never break.

I've applied sixteen times to drama school but I've never been accepted.

I'm convinced it's because I'm too fat.

I try to explain it's because I have a little baby in my belly.

But they don't want to listen to me.

It doesn't matter that you are fat.

I love you anyway.

Mein liebe.

I want you.

I wish I were you.

I wish you were the one who wanted me.

No on has ever wanted me.

I was always the one who was chosen last in gym class,-

-when I went to school.

In the horrible horrible little place where I grew up.

That I don't even want to say its name.

There was never anybody there who ever wanted me.

Not even me.

Mein liebe liebe liebe.

All of your bodily orifices are warm and tight.

All of my orifices are soft caves.

Which lead into a wonderful temple.

And there inside it's so light.

It's like death.

It's like coming to heaven.

For I am completely open.

And I let the whole world enter me.

There is room for everything in me.

Dishes.

And glasses.

And cars.

And all of Africa.

All of Rumania.

And the sun can live in me.

All of its light.

The birds.

All those who are sad can enter me.

I am no longer afraid.

I no longer close myself.

I let everything in.

I am no longer afraid of anything.

There is nothing to be afraid of.

I open my heart.

You don't have to be afraid.

I welcome all the suffering.

You can put it here.

I welcome it into my breast.

All of your instruments of torture, I know you want to get rid of them.

You can lay them in my breast, I have cut open my chest cavity.

It's not difficult, It's perforated between my ribs.

I can take on all of your weariness.

I can take on anything, I can run and jump.

And if there is anyone in need I can help out.

If your grocery bags are heavy, I can help you.

Oh my my I am so happy, I can take care of everything.

I am so happy.

Why are you giving me all this medicine when I'm so happy?

Why are you giving me all this medicine when I'm so happy?

I'm healthy.

You're the one who is sick. I'm healthy.

I've dilated nine centimetres.

My water breaks out of me.

Behind the mirror my water breaks into me.

Inside I am a little girl waiting to be born.

It is I who am Jesus.

It is I who am Jesus' mother.

Where is the tape?

I cannot live without you.

Please get out the tape.

You cannot live without me.

Where is the tape?

I must have the tape.

This is where I lived when I was little.

And here.

This is where I got dressed.

This is where the grass grew higher and higher.

This is where I crept in and hid.

This is where I lay waiting.

And waiting.

My fingers.

My head.

Ten centimetres.

I am dilated ten centimetres.

My heart is full.