I saw you when I lost interest in everything.
There's a huge exploitation in the world of the frenzy of people who are anxious and incompetent.
I have sought a theory to transform, to transcend and to guide my practice.
And We doubted the complex motives of all our deeds, so We stopped and waved at the humble believers and wiped out the dead and unfailing fathers. And We formed the insulated film with symbols, and many things were constricted and my life was condensed and my world was isolated by cracks. Waiting in despair for a miracle to turn my existence upside down and inspire my desire because it is to face all the experiences, to face anxiety and suffering, to despair and despair, that is you, that is life, that is all you are.
I sealed myself up and drew a map.
On the edge of the map.
I saw you.
I looked at the P4 Theater records, and I felt I was in that record camera.
I love a richness that is a luxury and a lack. I have sealed my desires against the manipulation of ideological machines, and I have cut off from the world, desperate against it. But I finally came to this theater, a possibility of return, faced with an open desire.
This joke mocks me.
Turn
and
Interrupt.
The story is broken into countless finger-pointing pieces, meaningless and struggling with eruptions in more than real expressions. A reorganisation on the border, breath of desire.
I always hated drama. Who the fuck used that tone? Hypocrisy, a narration of slave-like words. A bunch of beautiful bitches. Truth can only be drawn in the cracks and dazzling whispers, and hissings should be heard when they erupt. It is these faint claims that are worthy of hearing that the shallow limits of power have been dropped and that power has been distraught. Without glamorousness, without submission, we need to be courageous and sincere enough to break the infinity of falsehood and to shoulder the despair of surrender and approach the impossible truth. Once again, I am tearing open the film, breathing and re-emerging, seeking links and expressions and looking forward to desire and disillusionment.
I'm gonna go back to life, tear myself apart, breathe.
Afterward
On the night before "The Last Rehearsal," Yanan suddenly told me he was coming. He's got P4 Theater in his psychoanalytic group, and his mind is full of theories, full of black words. He then went to Beijing after three hours from Ishiba's station, went all the way to the stabbing fish bookshop and watched the show, and he told me he needed desire. I said let's start today and let's get our consciousness out of there.