Script for 'Exist'

Lee Saunders has been kind enough to donate his voice for the character in my latest piece. Here is the script Lee has been working on. 

INT.OPEN SPACE (BLACK)

AZ

I was sat down, like this, on a chair, or a stool, no, a chair, it doesn't matter. The only light i could see was coming from a 16mm projector output reflecting back at me. I have no idea what was on. I had no idea how long i had been there, i mean seriously, my sense of time was so flat. and that was it, the projector, it kept counting down, at different speeds. There was a table. There was nothing on it and it was right in front of me. I was having a drink. Nothing alcoholic just some coffee, and i mean i hate coffee, i had no idea why i had coffee, so, thinking 'why have i got this' I go to put the mug on the table, and it literally falls through the fucking table onto the floor. I couldn't make sense of what i had just witnessed. And i start questioning the tables existence. I mean, if i was tripping or some shit i wanna know about it. So i take my hand, like this, and slowly, i push it down, and as it meets the table, it vanished. I'm on this fucking stool, i mean chair, and the mugs on the floor, and everything's just black. And this thought comes to me. Is this random or predetermined? and this is where it got weird. The projector starts playing this exact moment im in. and i can see myself.

I start thinking, am i remembering or living this? What if its both? It's like i'm around the corner and i have no idea where that corner is. I start contemplating existence, the universe. Theres stars, planets, all kinds of matter, no-one truly knows where any of this shit comes from,and i have no idea what any of this im experiencing is. I started asking myself, is that really here? what if that mug is as real as the table. What if everything is conditioned to perception, and how we interpret experience through perception, and right now that mug, the table, even myself are part of that experience? What if chance was predetermined, and everything you see right now was meant to be and, i try to think, try to remember.. but it's fragmented. I try to give this some kind of meaning. but this place feels soooo soooo fragile. How did i even get here? How did i even get here. am i high? am i dreaming? Is my neurology leaving me? and then, and then i remember, i remember, i don't know who i am.

Who am i? Who am i? Who am i? Who am i?