Recently, we were involved in the production of a play called "Blank Moon" in Beijing. We had a better name, but for some reason it is now.
It's a little play in which I don't contribute much, and I'm swinging my position, writing, directing, producing, and I don't want to be, and I finally chose the executive producer.
A promotional material written for (Blank Moon)
I lost the moon for a whole year.
Blackie used to ask me, "Where is he?" I said, "He doesn't want you, fool."
And then one day, I suddenly felt that the sun was so hot, that winter was not as cold as in previous years, as the Drama God was telling me, "Get up, it's time to rehearse."
I've always been afraid of the sun, and there's always a feeling of secrecy being looked at, which is better than naked running and more detailed than an autopsy; not at night when I go out, it's natural to be invisible, and no one can see me so easily.
There is always a poem in mind that is more sarcastic than the black eyes of Guang, more bitter than the noble tombstone of North Island, and more pale than the death of the gods of the Sea. But I will never remember the poem. Maybe it's not a poem at all, it's a stale stick that someone knocked on my back.
All of this has changed, and the moon will no longer appear as I give away the address of the secret base. The night is only the night, and the night is only the night.
And the night recedes when the sun comes, and it is as heavy as it is, and thanks to it. I saw a bunch of green babies, flying around me in circles, screaming in my mouth: "It's time to rehearse, it's time to rehearse."
And I said, "Oh, shit!"
High-rise buildings of light and stability, the subways in the dark tunnel, are located in the same Beijing. I never doubted that I loved the world.
"If one concludes from these phenomena that we do not actually have emperors, then he is not far from truth. I have to repeat: there may be no more loyalness than our people in the south, but loyalty does not benefit the emperor. Although there is a sacred dragon on the small cylindrical pole at the village's entrance, since ancient times it has been blowing fire in the direction of the city as a sign of allegiance - but for the people of the village it is more strange than it is in the world to come. Is there really a village with houses full of squares and fields that look upon our little agglomerations, filled with people day and night? It is hard to imagine such a capital, and it is hard to believe that the capital is the same thing as the emperor, as if it were a cloud that has been moving quietly under the sun for centuries." Kafka said.
I never lost the moon, and he was always hanging high, looking at me, silent, like a thousand years ago.
It's just that Black doesn't give up. Where is he?" I said, "He doesn't want you, fool."
Send a poem by the producer
When you come home, you can bring a picture of the person you love.
Hang it on your chest.
And then you're gonna say the name.
And the empty market behind it.
And he could be indulging in it with a great deal of unease and illusion.
Unknown beasts descend on red carpets and textile machines.
Fight in an inhospitable place.
I love her.
Let go!
Replace Manau.
Through me.
Look at the space and excitement outside the house.
The ships are stationed deep inside a well-defeated heart for stability and cowardice. Weak
The walls break and the tits release the beautiful boxes.
Lover sleeps in three dogs and Al-Quds.
It brings only fresh pain and nail cooking skills.
It's the cold, yellow light and serenity of the spirit.
Make extreme black rinsing and lowly backward little time and space.
It's more than just a page.
And the road to higher places.
An official performance will take place on 16 December.
If you want to come to the show, please scan the two-dimensional code below and add the producer's micromail ticket. I'll probably be there on the day of the show.
The following is a personal product
A week ago, I decided to make a new play, which I saw as a re-launching of the Tasty Theatre, which could take months to create; the news of this new play, which I will gradually publish on this public page, hopefully, will not disappoint you. If any friends want to be involved, please leave a message at the back.
The taste of drama.
Voice of Drama