There Are Those Who Go

For The Lost Are Lost By Nature, All Your Ideas Of Moral Regeneration Will Make No Difference, There Is An Innate Determinism, There Is An Undeniable Incurability In Suicide, Crime, Idiocy, Madness, There Is An Invincible Cuckoldry In Man, There Is A Congenital Weakness Of The Character, A Castration Of The Mind.

Like All Magic Cultures Expressed By Appropriate Hieroglyphs, The True Theater Has Its Shadows Too, And, Of All Languages And All Arts, The Theater Is The Only One Left Whose Shadows Have Shattered Their Limitations.

When I Think About Myself, My Thought Seeks Itself In The Ether Of A New Space. I Am On The Moon As Others Are On Their Balconies. I Participate In Planetary Gravitation In The Fissures Of My Mind.

With Society And Its Public, There Is No Longer Any Other Language Than That Of Bombs, Barricades, And All That Follows.

The True Theater, Because It Moves And Makes Use Of Living Instruments, Continues To Stir Up Shadows Where Life Has Never Ceased To Grope Its Way.