Actor

The past week left me a shivering pile of anxiety. Tutorials left undone, being unprepared for labs and sleeping at ridiculous times. 
Last night, I joined the Stage gang (just Mike, Chris and Sue) to watch Lone Journeys, some abstract play with white uniforms, yelling and anachronistic storytelling which I didn’t really understand. We all left the theatre feeling mellow and bummed out… until Sue dragged us to SAM@8Q to participate in the Zentai festival thing. 

Zentai is basically the “art” of wearing a skintight bodysuit (complete with mask, which I described to Sue as “BDSM without the DSM”) and just… doing your thing, albeit with a literal mask of anonymity that obscures and accentuates all your features. 

There was something about it that screamed societal suicide which seemed apparent upon entering the preparation area; pardon my judgement, but the participants were mostly middle-aged menchildren who seemed in it for the kink and not the quirk. Did I mention the packages? Oh god, the clearly defined packages.
Aside from the Malay instrumental ensemble, I was the only normally dressed person in the room (my pot belly  and severe phobia of garish costumes doesn’t mesh well with lycra anyway) and I stood patiently till my friends returned as amorphous,  humanoid and muffled aliens. 

I followed the bunch of rubbery dolls as their photographer and the public reacted with either fear (naturally) or inquisitivity, once even forming a cypher for Mike and Chris to breakdance in the middle of a captivated audience, which I found a wonderful spark of human interaction. 

They paraded around the art museum, taking photos, improvising theatrical things and generally being blind but amusing to the public (with occasional calls of “SHAOO” for photo opportunities) 

We finished at 1 and proceeded to the Night Festival to mingle amongst an ebbing crowd. 

Today, I had my very first scriptread to roaring laughter and… 

I’m gonna act! My grades are so going to tank.