I did not write this text. Rather, this text composed itself with its own agency in an effort to escape from the norms of playwriting. It is a text conjuring itself in the interplay between writing and unwriting playwrighting. It takes as its object the very act of writing and embraces it, disrupts it, discards it. It is neither a performance script nor a narrational text; it is a hybrid text that is performative as much as it is performed. This text is not to be read; it is to be felt. Take a step back, look into the page; the font, the size, the shape of the words; the amalgamation of letters in phrases. Close your eyes, let it speak to you, dance with you, cry for you. Immerse into its collage-form, listen to its diaspora of voices, fragments of sentences, real-life conversations. Breathe. Think. This text does not try to be anything else other than just itself. It does not convey a brilliant idea, or a sophisticated meaning. It is freedom for interpretation and experiment. It is both real and fiction. It is writing, poetry, visual, performative, audio-installation, music. It is everything and nothing. It just is.