Last night, after worrying about May Lyn, I finally fell asleep at 3am and dreamt that I was flying through the air, not in a plane, but superman-like, across thousands of miles, across continents and oceans to fuck S. all night.
Today we did a little showing to a few people from the administration of the CNDC. So that Benoît and I could practice having a real conversation in front of people without knowing what we would be talking about, allowing for the subject to come to us in the moment. Essentially we were saying, "Here, look at me not know what the fuck I am doing".
This makes me think of Yukio Mishima committing hara-kiri or sepukku (I forget what the technical differences are) while hundreds or thousands of people are congregated outside; because how would you rehearse such a thing? I think his student, who was supposed to slit his throat or cut off his head after Mishima had disembowelled himself, botched it up and it was more messy than, um, it was meant to be.
As we know, he eventually succeeded in dying publically.
And we, Benoît, company and I, will eventually perform this piece for real.
As well, all this hystrionic superman behaviour will eventually have to stop.