hey? I haven't had any chance to create a blog when it was accurate so I am trying to catch up

With this post I close the Performance "My other Self at play".  This performance took place as a response for my creative project for my assessement of the module Frontiers of Performance Arts (Goldsmiths)  However, the blog will continue to exist. My other self might it may reappear sometimes. Maybe other projects or ideas will flourisch in this anonymous space. My other self and me are looking forward to it. 

 N+ 105 : End of play  The sweet little sparkle has gone out. And we are out of time.   I say goodbye, to so much. Old lovers, Old memories, Old patterns, so many odd old little things.   Each time I count the same story, about me growing up, about me now being able to pass through life without any fears. The multiplicity of my beings has vanished. The reason is that it doesn’t matter. Any more or has it ever? What’s left?   The only thing I wanted to get rid of, my reliance on the other. On you, my reader. On everything that is not me. I have tried every manner I could think of. It’s time to call the end of the play. There is no winner and no loser. Only me is standing on stage, as much actor, director, spectator … You never existed fully, only me came to matter not so long ago before the beginning of the 21century. I believed all that I wrote, but where does it leave me now. Ageing reliance and tender confidence I cannot even remember fully. We are stuck, stuc...

  N+100 :  Yesterday I had a conversation with P, again. She told me we are the one responsible for our way of being. She said she just decided to erase her suffering. Be less, to be more. Embrace the emptiness. P and I, we don’t have the same relationship to emptiness. What about you? What would you think of it? For me, it’s just like a bad memory of violent death, the void of desperation and disappearance. According to her, it’s about Buddhism and the embracement of the real.   Leave the abstract world and the hidden meanings of things away, far far from us, apart. Indeed, just leaving the secret sense of life where it belongs unreachable and untouchable for any sense.   I don’t really know.   I don’t really think.   I don’t really think she is right thought…

 N + 96: close to an end I drank all the greyness of the day and hoped you would show up in a sunbeam. All of this without announcing you. As I told you last time. I miss you, being all alone is a nightmare. It’s a new path in life I am not sure, yet I want to embrace.  How I miss the uncertainty of your presence. Now it’s in your absence that I have to drown myself.   I try very often to draw a picture of you in the air, gathering all the memories, classifying them, one by one, one after the other, in the right order, the one order I like. No one can tell me what’s right and what’s wrong. I take all the decisions believe it or not. From right to wrong and from left to right (did I told you I always mix up left and right, something must be wrong up there).  It’s just I don’t like casualty, normality and order.  

N+94 I get to be paralyzed within myself. How is that even possible. Tiredness and strain build up endlessly. Things get messy. I would like so much for things to get messy between us. I remember the time you kissed my cheek. I felt on fleek. I can’t get the feeling back, my heart beating faster, the blood in my face, the unspoken words that would not come out. It’s just so weird, I don’t understand, in your presence, I feel alive. This is a feeling I am not used to.   Normally life, in which I perform a perfect casualty, a cool coldness, just passes by.   The I don’t care, recklessness is attractive. That is the thing I am looking for, I want them, the other, the reader, you to get addicted to me, so nobody sees how dependent I am, indeed,   of them. Turned out, this technique is doomed to fail. Don’t ask me why. You already have the answer. I have tried, hard, very hard but it didn’t work, never mind.   So close to you I lose my smart words. I know you know the sha...