Butoh at Bangka, Taipei 98

Sunday routine

Going through the tunnel of trees...

I arrived at sunday market.

It was hot and I was thirsty, I got a 仙草 drink.

Temperature, smell, noise... they are not recorded.  

Our conscious also can't catch everything.

but it doesn't mean we don't feel them.

I can't trust what I think, what I said

because my conscious tells a lie sometimes.

What I want, what I don't want

I am not made only by conscious.

Thinking about "death with dignity"