i myself am strange and unusual.

Sometimes you write a beautiful and epic movement play about a very specific feeling, and due to Very Recent Events Outside Of Your Control, the play is no longer Neo-Futurist, not even a little bit; and thus, you cannot pitch this play and you must write a new play about a new feeling twenty minutes before your rehearsal begins, and ultimately, all of this is good, because that first play was about a Bad Feeling, but it was better than the new play, which is about a Good Feeling, and there is a tiny part of your brain that remains trapped between wanting the Good Feeling to stay and wanting it to go away, just for a little bit, so that your beautiful and epic play can be Neo-Futurist once again and you can pitch that play and ideally put in on stage, and then you realize THAT IS REALLY SICK AND TWISTED AND MESSED UP AND WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!?!?!

 

And how was your week?

 

You guys. It all worked out. We have four spankin’ new plays that will bring you all of the feels–the good ones, the bad ones, the dark and twisty ones. That, my friends, is the beauty of Neo-Futurism. See you there.

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