Why, here? Why, now? How, here? How, now?

It's here. We have shifted. As fast as the ever-changing IOS on your phone, as frequent as the change on your FB interface: our identities now extended online, our voices now texts and images intertwined, performance extended to our framed, created identities online,. our communities expanded in polarities - from the likes to the haters, our stories framed as to our desired emoticon response and target readers, all media tainted with doubt, trust and truth only guaranteed from like-minded people -

all oppositions reduced to being false and works of fiction. We seek communities and create communities not to break barriers but to create more walls. Our stories always told with singularity, never thinking otherwise or jumping on the other side of the wall. Arguments reduced to the regional, to generational, as if all things are plain black and white. People's lives reduced to plain data: voters, killers, dead bodies, supporters, haters : personal histories, personal narratives not validated - we tell what we desire, we see only what we want to see, we perform what we only want to be, we listen to what sounds exactly like us - relatable, likeable, same-same, not any-any, singular one-ness. When we build those walls, no one ever dared build a crack to peep or to listen. Perhaps, there is that hole, or that highest part of that wall that can see all things shut. Or perhaps, there can be is that cloud, that physical space of pluralist inclusivity, a space and time of gathering for inquiry - flesh and blood, beyond data and blocked histories, it is the boxing ring where people throw punches or hugs, or that boodle fight where we fight for nourishment, for life, for life. When we all righteously known history is reduced to speculative fiction - the theater should go beyond “fiction based on truth” and/ or “truth based on fiction”. The theater as encounter. Why here? Why now? How, here? How, now? We should be here and not here, now.