{"id":1182,"date":"2019-12-21T17:12:59","date_gmt":"2019-12-21T17:12:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/imaginedtheatres.com\/?post_type=theatre&p=1182"},"modified":"2022-01-20T23:01:56","modified_gmt":"2022-01-20T23:01:56","slug":"fragment-zero","status":"publish","type":"theatre","link":"https:\/\/www.imaginedtheatres.com\/fragment-zero\/","title":{"rendered":"FRAGMENTO CERO \/ FRAGMENT ZERO"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

V\u00d3RTICE <\/span> <\/strong><\/p>\n

Noche negra, dopada negra. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

El letrero verde de ne\u00f3n en la azotea. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Aire helado en las alturas.
Hacia el abismo, c\u00e1maras de seguridad como p\u00e1jaros ebrios.
Objetos indescifrables, pantallas descompuestas, sangre, pelo, huesos. Una trampa al ojo.  
Una danza de San Vito.  <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Un cuerpo humano en llamas que nadie mira. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

La luz tediosa parpadea hacia afuera, parpadea hacia adentro.  <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

*  <\/strong><\/p>\n

La m\u00fasica del cello amplificado y los gritos de los que duermen en la calle ad libitum.  <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

UNA VOZ\/UN CORO\/UN SPAM EN LA CABEZA: <\/strong><\/p>\n

Demasiada comedia infiltrada, encubierta.<\/strong>
Demasiado realismo forzado.<\/strong>
Excesiva utop\u00eda oportuna. <\/strong><\/p>\n

La realidad ya no es lo que era, verdad?  <\/strong>
Crees que subes y est\u00e1s derrapando en la escena,  <\/strong>
te estrellaste contra la cuarta pared y sigues sangrando como un\/a idiota. <\/strong><\/p>\n

Sabes qui\u00e9n habla cuando movilizas tus labios?<\/strong>
Sabes qui\u00e9n susurra el mon\u00f3logo cuando est\u00e1s solo\/a en la noche escuchando los  helic\u00f3pteros? La bilis se acumula en tus entra\u00f1as:<\/strong>
Est\u00e1s descendiendo en el agua negra,<\/strong>
Mientras tu carne empieza a pudrirse en c\u00e1mara lenta.<\/strong>
Qu\u00e9 vas a hacer?<\/strong>
Recibir\u00e1s financiamiento de los millonarios corruptos para desplegar tu protesta imaginaria?<\/strong>
Has comprado una camiseta alusiva a tu causa, un uniforme adecuado? Te pintaste la cara?<\/strong>
Reparaste tus zapatos rotos de tanto marchar en la calle?<\/strong>
El\/La periodista polic\u00eda sigue d\u00e1ndote instrucciones en medio del insomnio? Est\u00e1n hackeando tus pensamientos?<\/strong>
Recibes actualizaciones en l\u00ednea que afirman tu estado de \u00e1nimo como alfileres que clavan mariposas en el insectario?<\/strong>
Tus amigos\/as todav\u00eda te regalan un like?<\/strong>
Eso te vuelve un\/a ciudadano\/a informado\/a, no es cierto? <\/strong><\/p>\n

Y qu\u00e9 quer\u00edas?<\/strong>
Vas a hacer una obrita exitosa con el aceite de los muertos? Vomitar\u00e1s un art\u00edculo acad\u00e9mico? <\/strong><\/p>\n

Recuerda: <\/strong><\/p>\n

Estamos viviendo en un estado policial.  <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Y lo \u00fanico que hay para poner bajo las luces es la carne que sangra, la carro\u00f1a humana, los restos animales, la huesa. <\/strong><\/p>\n

Reflejar lo que pasa? <\/strong>
Volver a contar la misma historia? <\/strong>
Que ellos cuenten eternamente sus monedas y prebendas. <\/strong><\/p>\n

Enciende un cigarrillo en la madrugada y sue\u00f1a una escena nueva, una digresi\u00f3n, un fragmento: Una revuelta en todas partes y contra todo. <\/strong><\/p>\n

Hasta que la realidad misma quede deshecha. <\/strong><\/p>\n

S\u00f3lo entonces un teatro nuevo podr\u00e1 ser imaginado cuando se hagan pedazos lo real y su reflejo.<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

VORTEX<\/del><\/strong>

Black night, doped up black.\u00a0<\/i>

The green neon sign on the rooftop.\u00a0\u00a0<\/i>

Frozen air on high.<\/i>
Near the abyss, security cameras like drunken birds.<\/i>
Indecipherable objects, disassembled screens, blood, hair, bones. An optical illusion.<\/i>
A dance of Saint Vitus.<\/i>

A human body in flames that no one sees.<\/i>

A light blinks monotonously from outside, blinks from inside.<\/i><\/p>\n

*<\/strong><\/p>\n

Amplified cello music and the screams of those who sleep in the streets ad libitum.\u00a0<\/i>

A VOICE\/A CHORUS\/WHITE NOISE IN THE HEAD:\u00a0\u00a0<\/strong>

Too much comedy that sneaks\/slips in, concealed.
Too much forced realism.
Excessively opportunistic utopia.

Reality isn\u2019t what it used to be, right?
You think you\u2019re going up, but you\u2019re skidding, on the stage,
You slam yourself against the fourth wall and you keep bleeding like an idiot.

Do you know who speaks when you move your lips?
Do you know who whispers the monologue when you are alone in the night listening to helicopters?
The bile that accumulates in your guts\u2013
You are descending in black water,
While your flesh starts to rot in slow motion.
What are you going to do?
Will you accept financing from corrupt millionaires to deploy your imaginary protest?
Have you bought yourself a shirt advertising your cause, an adequate uniform? Do you paint your face?
Did you repair your shoes, broken from so much marching in the street?
Does the police journalist continue to give you instructions in the midst of insomnia? Are they hacking your thoughts?
Do you receive online updates that affirm your state of mind like needles that pierce butterflies in the insectarium?
Do your friends still give you a \u201clike\u201d?
That makes you an informed citizen, right?

And what did you want?
Are you going to create a little successful play with the anointments of the dead?
Will you vomit up an academic article?

Remember:

We are living in a police state.<\/i>

And all that remains to put under the lights is flesh that bleeds, human carrion, animal remains, the grave.<\/p>\n

Reflect on what happens?
Continue to tell that same story?
Let them eternally count their money and perks.

Light a cigarette in the early morning and dream of a new scene, a digression, a fragment: a riot everywhere and against everything.

Until reality itself is undone.

Only then can a new theatre be imagined. When the real and its reflection are shattered.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"V\u00d3RTICE   Noche negra, dopada negra.  El letrero verde de ne\u00f3n en la azotea. Aire helado en las alturas. Hacia el abismo, c\u00e1maras de seguridad como p\u00e1jaros ebrios. Objetos indescifrables, pantallas descompuestas, sangre, pelo, huesos. Una trampa al ojo.  Una danza de San Vito.  Un cuerpo humano en llamas que nadie mira.  La luz tediosa […]","protected":false},"menu_order":0,"template":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginedtheatres.com\/api\/wp\/v2\/theatres\/1182"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginedtheatres.com\/api\/wp\/v2\/theatres"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginedtheatres.com\/api\/wp\/v2\/types\/theatre"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imaginedtheatres.com\/api\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1182"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}