Not much in the mood for multiple experiences of theater via the Fringe
Fest tonight. Just tired. Just thinking of consumption. The consumers, the
things consumed. Don’t blame the makers or the purveyors of things made. The
sellers sell in markets. Consumers visit and purchase, maybe trade. Consumers
complain. Consumers consume and blame the market. They resent the sellers who
now have their money. Consumers sit and ponder their purchases. The market has
guns most of which not designed for hunting animals. Visit the market and see
for yourself. Where are the factories for guns? Let’s become more familiar with
the brands. Time to see a few commercials on television alongside the ads for
alcoholic beverages and cars. Without enough oxygen, we’re choking. Lungs
filling with thick fluid with nowhere to drain. Consumption.
But tonight in the city there’s artful things. Performances. Things
collaboratively created. A festival of edgy things. People telling stories. Advertisements for all of this. Select your venue and attend. I’m
barely writing. Written out for the time being. Seeking air. Silence.
Bullets in a theater. The images I create of those people scattering,
falling, slipping. The deaths in Aurora bring it close to my experience in my
place. A familiar setting, the magic of the movies. This consumes me. I feel sad
and empty tonight. I’ll write.
No comments:
Post a Comment