It's our nature to complicate

curtains opened.

the actors came on stage. they started to recite their lines. it was Midsummer's Night Dream. look at the amount of paint they put on their face. none of them were recognisable, that's how thick their make-up were. one of them could be your best friend. one of them could be your relative. or you sister. or brother. but none of us could tell. anything that was deemed to be recognisable, were heavily disguised. they didn't want to be known. the play continued. when one scene was over, lights were dimmed. the crowd didn't move. they just kept quiet. when the lights came on, it indicates another new scene. the actors came on stage again. this time with different costumes, still completely unrecognisable. the play went on. followed by several more scenes. lights were dimmed and brighten and dimmed and brighten and dimmed and brighten. the crowd was still. silently still. no one from the crowd said anything. neither anyone clapped nor cheered. only the voices of the actors could be heard. the play lasted for a night. how exactly did they prolong the whole play into 10 hours, no one knows. at six, the play ended. none of the actors thanked the crowd for their lack of enthusiasm and patience that lasted throughout the night. they just simply went into the backstage when the last line was uttered. nobody moved when the play ended. the crowd sat still for three solid minutes, and at once, the whole crowd raised from their seats as if they were ordered. as they were leaving the hall, no one said anything about the play nor any of them shown any sign of exhaustion. it's like their feelings were numb. once again the hall is void of any living organism. it is quiet. it is dead.

curtains closed.

as if yesterday didn't happen.