Admittance

      Patient: He has a drifter look, messy hair, plaid shirt and cords. Young but talks like he has had years of experiences. He plays with a coin, flipping it through his fingers. During the play he gets increasingly calmer and more comfortable. Never stops his smug and knowing smile. Interrupts himself a lot. He is fidgety but in a comfortable and composed way.

      Psychiatrist: Boring, clean shaven, hair combed back. He wears a white doctors coat. Intelligent enough in a traditional sense, he can’t keep eye contact with the patient. Speaks in a monotone voice until the end of the play.

      Patient is on one side of a table. He is picking at his nails and leaning back in his chair, looking around uninterestedly at the Psychiatrists office. Psych enters and sits down never looking at the patient; he opens a folder and reads over it.

      Patient:

      I actually think its kind of an honor to be called crazy you know?

      Psych:

      Is that so? Well I am here to determine just how intact your sanity is Mr. hmm… (Shuffles through papers looking for patients name is a little confused when he cant find it)

      Patient:

      I always thought that the ah, sanest people, were just the best liars. You see you, people, you ah, you resent all things phenomenal. While the people you call crazy they embrace it. They understand it. I do not think that the people you keep in this building are insane. I think, they… are enlightened. I think they resonate with a higher meaning.

      Psychiatrist:

      So what about the guy on the fourth floor who tried to kill someone because they stepped on a worm he claimed was his mother. Are you saying he is not crazy?

      Patient:

      I believe that there is as much truth in that, as he wanted there to be. I mean what is a mother in the philosophical sense? That which gives you life, am I right? Now. Although the worm obviously did not give birth to the man in question… It, does fertilize the soil. The earth from which he gets everything he needs to stay alive. And although this man’s actions are obviously uncalled for. I do not think they make him crazy. Since when did society decide on what was acceptable to kill for? Millions of people have died. For stones, for land, for oil. I think a worm, a creature that is essential to our survival, is a far better reason to kill then diamonds or petrol.

      Psychiatrist:

      So you are saying what he did was perfectly sane and acceptable.

      Patient:

      I’m saying it’s understandable. Just as killing a man who killed someone dear to you would be understandable. It, it still doesn’t make it right, but its understandable.

      Psychiatrist:

      Hmmm... (Disappointed he reaches for something else to challenge the man with) What about all the young men on the 2nd floor who hear voices? Who talk to people, to things, that are not there.

      Patient:

      Do you pray?

      Psychiatrist:

      I don’t see how—

      Patient:

      Do you curl up at in your little bed at night, and ask your almighty lord to indulge your fancies?

      Psychiatrist:

      In so many words yes I suppose I do pray everyday for the well being of my loved ones.

      Patient:

       (He takes the coin he was fingering and spins it on the table) So what is the difference between you and them? Other then they carry out an intelligent two-way conversation with the beings they hear, about things other then… (Grins and raises an eyebrow) spicing up the relationship with the wifey...

      Psychiatrist:

      Are you saying that I am crazy?

      Patient:

      Are you saying you’re sane? (He puts his finger on the coin stopping its rotation)

      Psych:

      I’m… (Patient spins coin again while psych is collecting his thoughts) Millions of people pray all over the world it's an age old ritual. (Starting to show his anger) And who are you to call me crazy? You're the one who is going to spend the rest of your life thrashing around a padded cell. (He picks the coin up and throws it out of the window)

      Patient:

      Iiiif hundreds of millions of people, carried out conversations with immaterial voices, do you think they would all be locked up? If a hundred million people claimed that a coconut was the embodiment of a god, it would be accepted. Insanity is masked in numbers.

      Psych:

      That's just… (Exasperated and exhausted sigh) I'm not going to get sucked into this right now. I have a family to get home to, and my favorite show is going to start soon. So I’m just going to get down to it. (Returning to his monotone voice) Now what is it exactly that you do?

      Patient:

      I travel.

      Psych:

      Travel?

      Patient:

      Yes I am a traveler.

      Psych:

      Where is it you travel too?

      Patient:

      Wherever I am needed.

      Psych:

      (Confusedly) I see… and how old are you? It says here that you are 17.

      Patient:

      I suppose if your sheet says it, it must be true.  

      Psych:

      Yes, well you have certainly been causing a lot of problems. Trying to cloud the eyes of good people.

      Patient:

      I haven’t said anything that was not true. But. Of course. I’m nothing but a delusional madman, so why are you so worried about what I have been saying?

      Psych:

      (Under his breath) Now that’s the truest thing you’ve said yet… Do you now why you have been brought here?

      Patient:

      Your scared.

      Psych:

      You have been seen teaching your anti-Christian message in five good Texan towns now. And there are reports of people who actually, (starts to get angry but returns to a professional but obviously very angry voice) who actually believe the… the things you are saying.

      Patient:

      Christianity has lost its originating principles. Instead of helping people it has eroded. It has become a, a fear based lie. Instead of giving money to the poor, you ask the poor to donate to the richest enterprise on earth. I a good friend of mine used to say that a religion that takes no account of practical affairs and does not help to solve them is no religion.

      Psych:

      That was Ghandi...

      Patient:

      (Mockingly) Very good!

      Psych:

      Where do you get off comparing yourself to a man such as that.  

      Patient:

      Well that’s not fair... I just started... (To himself but audible)

       Psych:

      (Ignores patient starts getting flustered) Gandhi was an amazing man; Martin Luther King was an amazing man. (Patient nods happily at the compliments) You, you’re shit who is going to rot in this dump for the rest of his life.

      Patient:

       (He pulls out a shot glass and a plastic water bottle pours the water in the bottle) Put me in the looney bin for merely speaking my truth. (scoffs) No wonder I’m here now. This world is way more fucked up then last time. (He then puts his hand over the glass covering it completely.) Tell me doc do you know why so many people have been listening to my crazy talk? Because... Well I’m pretty good at… lets say, delivering… a… speech. (He takes his hand off the glass the water has changed to a rich red color. Smiling even more widely then before he downs the glass spilling some down his chin stands up and calls for security) Guards! Take this man away!

      Psych:

      (Stunned into his seat the psychiatrist stutters as he watches the guards take the patient away) What, what did you say your name is?

      Patient:

      (Not allowing the guards to roughly drag him away) I didn’t. (He winks, smiles even broader, and flips the doctor the coin and lets the guards take him away)