When both rabies and immunoglobins are injected into the body, a warm purple dark current pours its head over its shoulder, the darkest moment in modern memory and the closest 30 seconds to a cosmic explosion. I remember the rush of liquid that kept me coughing until the tears flashed, tried to open my mouth but was clogged by a bunch of insides. It's how I felt in heaven, lying in bed on April 8.
I've been lying on my bed, my vital signs have been examined by doctors and nurses with various devices, and my condition will be recorded. I feel that the grey closed cube is accelerating compression, seeing through and cutting my body, and I try to slip away again and again. And after being abused, I woke up and became your judge and your executive.
With regard to the North Wind Theatre, it seems to be wandering in two worlds, and I wonder whether it's ruins or a new order? Unresolved disorder or liberation of the object itself before its end. I suppose you've revolutionized the old words against a sinking ship. God promises heaven, and Hall of History promises. And today, all of them are fired without oaths, fortunately the playboys are still unemployed.
The North Wind Theatre said it's real. It's real. What is it? I know it's the ball that stirs the time and space, bends the truth and spreads the heat, enough to make us feel all new. And the hypocrites are human beings. And how can he make a real play? The tide has sprung up on the banks of the embankments so that we can see the colours and hear the music, and only the intervention of God can open the door to me. That's what I've been skeptical about: even if I have more ideas, more feelings, the reason I can't get involved is the lack of a dot, or, like, an Akimid dot, which combines personal theory with practice. Your practice is good, it is "good", it is counter-system, and how we get involved will necessarily require a boost.
I used to go back to life by listening to other people's conversations, and never conscious of myself. Joining the North Wind Theatre was the beginning when I was torn apart. I was no longer a wiretaper, a monitor, and I had to re-examine myself. Give up your focus and get ready. And when the body is ready, the spirit will give up.
But, "The old one is dead, the new one is not born".
I agree with "no landscape." What's the landscape?
Images are the negative side of memory, violence the negative side of fantasy and landscape the negative side of dialogue.
The landscape was screaming
Cut the instincts, spread the truth!
Step aside from action!
When emotions are degraded to a merely reactive organ, I am merely a reminder of myself, merely a duplication of supercharges and even a measure of self-legitimization in terms of property rights.
He shouted: "Whoever buys culture, he can control the world. Who writes myths, he can rebuild nature."
We can't see anything.
So we want to regain the right to watch.
Mental shrink, value collapse. Is the North Wind just one of the gods?
Turning your desires upside down and covering your eyes. There is no doubt that the phenomenon will be eliminated. A rational world requires people to obey order, and subjective values require choices. Behaviour is divided and feedback delayed. As a form of compensation, theatre can or should be returned to a kind of "play play".
This is where I like North Winds. Here, the game is a gesture. Understanding, implicit, symbiotic, acceptance. There will always be some delay and distortion in the march of civilization into the area, showing a strong Oedipus bond. We were born from civilization and now fight back and fire heavily at his father.
Wang Woo-ki was the first member of the North Wind Theatre to be recruited in Hangzhou, and felt that her entry was not easy to write, and was written with all her strength.
We need more strength, recruitment continues, and it never stops calling for the unknown, if you feel a little resonance, even if there is a little difference after reading it. Do not hesitate. Come on, come to us, let us talk face-to-face, build a genuine presence, try out a new thing in the strongest possible way from one another, to fight against the rigid and rigid experience of the past. It will be created by us together, of course.
We don't have to rely on crutches, we don't have to fantasies about everything. Fake theories always lead us astray, believing the system is dead. Only when the original instinct is restored, climbs out of an exit, digs out a cave that belongs to itself, lets the instincts release at will, and lets the shameful valve breathe, can it touch a semblance of recognition. Beautiful, she will come.
In April, the North Wind Theatre came to us in Hangzhou, and let us work together and boldly let the unknown come.
Want to play?
Captain, fly together!