After"Vagina Monologues"

A friend and I travelled long way to HartSalon 798 for the longing play of Vagina Monologue, which was played by two Britishes and one American gal and an African-American. The place was cool although it's a bit hard to see what's going on as seats were on the same level except those in the back, and the actors were using the stage floor a lot to convey hot love making. I enjoyed it at the beginning, then got a bit uneasy as my friend found it too much fight and too much bloody kissing and cuddling, and fibbling on bed, and she left early, and the American guy beside me was approaching closer to me to get a clearer view, which, annoyed me to certain extent. I spilt my beer on his seat pretending it was a "opps" accident and thank god he moved his bulk.

I loved the script, the dialogues, the confusion of being a woman in a relationship, and the womanhood itself. The complex of the love scene has always interested me and it churned the waves of my river when they showed that love died in a relationship, in being too close, in the loss of the lost. Hardly using any word, the sorrow was there communicating a whole. I felt like crying, felt like letting out the sorrow, felt like jumping on the stage and screaming.

But the play was a bit dry without a depth it should have had. Didn't mean it was no good. In fact I think they did it quite well and they put tons of energy in making it perfect. But there was too much acting in it, in the way they screamed, laughed and fighted. And honestly I would have enjoyed it better when the actors' appearance and outfits could match better with the story. Guess they showed us their version of the monologue as they were only in their early twenties.

Well I didn't manage to stick to the end either as my feelings got thicker and the play gradually weaned me out of my emotions by its lack of tensity. So I walked out during the break. Strolling along 798 in the early evening, feeling a bit wan with emotions squeezing my chest, I suddenly wanted to write my own play or play it even by myself. I felt I could do it, and I felt I had it in me already--I had felt it or experienced it in the past.

I perhaps would call it "Fish with wings" or "Hairy".

Lonely night, crowed with too many thoughts of love.