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There's this part of the performance I am required to take part in where I was chosen just today to stand in the middle of puking caucasians ( 'cos i am the only tropical monkey.. erm so AC ) intoxicated by the consumption of Coca Cola. You know, polluted by the idea of consumerism and how it creates nausea.




My place, if my drama would still happen, would be on both sides of the front, over and above them.
I stand in the stench of the crowd to hurl stones at policemen soldiers tanks bullet-proof glass.
I look through the double doors of bullet-proof glass at the crowd pressing forward and smell the sweat of my fear.
Choking with nausea, I shake my fist at myself who stands behind the bullet-proof glass


It's all so warped. Really stressful. That accent. How to produce?
 
 
 
 
 
 
kk... i believe. -_-