Lazy from C-Z

Infiltrators crushing in at every angle flanking at all corners We stood at the edge of the world's mightiest battle The conduit rose from its blue mystic light Illuminating the heavens with its cold, beaming might Shattering all forms of life as they please The morning comes with an early breeze But the night's shadow looms the sun still The planet's doom was all that seems to kindle In the eyes of a forgotten moccasin While a child burns feet first on dreams upon dreams Indoctrination, subjugation, limitation, dreams Rise mighty monarch and harvest Show us what it means to be alive Show us our hopes and dreams Show us, show us your power Power through domination Power through destruction

Not sure about LISPA anymore. Three more months to go and yet here I am ready and willing to finally just let go. Or maybe not. The fun is no longer there. The quality of feedback diminishes quicker than we can finish the Tragic Chorus. It’s hopeless. There is no right amount of justification for what is about to transpire. All I hope is that for all the things that were left high and dry to help me carry on beyond the works of this putrid environment I am at now. The very term ‘physical theatre’ sounds like a very enticing prospect for one such as me, who’s about (or already had) to venture into an unknown abyss of art and creation. But as I have learned the hard way, it contradicts itself with its own label. The aspects which can be traced easily to the core of the definition; the ‘physical’ aspect and the ‘theatre’ aspect. Whichever way you’re looking at it, it doesn’t have to make sense. For many artists, or for the self-proclaimed ones, the subjective point of view in all a...