Theatre of Ocean: Stories of Performance Between Us

Theatre of Ocean: Stories of performance between Us - says ‘There is nothing wrong with I. The I sometimes speaks of “we” better.’ (Chapter 10, “A Letter to Grandma”).

Theatre of Ocean is a memoir of out takes from a performance artist moving backwards and forwards in space and time; it is a series of stories of art and experience that interweave performance, love, art, culture, gender and politics. An established international performance and video artist, New Zealand choreographer Alexa Wilson based in Berlin, guides the reader through fragmented musings that traverse the spaces between cultures and identities at a digitally, politically and environmentally escalating time in the early 21st Century.

The writing in Theatre of Ocean ranges from hyper-emotional prose-poem to film script to academic feminist critique to humour piece. Written largely in Berlin, the book expresses a feminism through a theatre of words; juxtaposing real stories with art works and musings performed, scripted, staged, or improvised, Theatre of Ocean reveals an artist clawing at the possibilities for socio-political change in the fabric of our world, in a dynamic triumvirate of settings: New York, Berlin, New Zealand.

Theatre of Ocean uses its central metaphor to connect everyone and everything through a relentless ocean of performances within frameworks of experience, often violent, offering the reader opportunities for engagement. Ultimately, it is the opposite of an autobiography about an individual – it is stories of performance between an individual and her audience as well as those in her world, the collective forces that both affect and are affected by an individual, and what an individual can do to transform these forces.

Theatre of Ocean is 70,000 words and was edited by Lauren Oyler in Berlin. 

Photo: Superbreath, Berlin 2017

How to talk about a work? A work that is hard to talk about...

Facebook post: The things we cannot speak about we make art about. (Then we are made to speak about it lol).  I just keep making art with the tension, confusion, truth and dignity that brings, sometimes that art has words too. 

Final & Solo Project of The Resistant Body Series: 999: The Alchemist Trauma Centre / Power Centre

999 is a “feminist meditation, poetic activist activation”, shaking the foundations of belief systems at the intersection of East and West in a way that has been described as “punk”. It offers humour and insight into the struggling, chaotic global conditions of our time from a subjective perspective, by provocatively questioning our shifting foundations in this capitalist/neo-liberal era transnationally and finding a new way to be present amidst the confused, but generative tension within inter-sectionality. It was born in India, on a residency I curated in the Himalayas and is a work in progress. This work will have an accompanying creative text in a the form of a small book, and also be written about in Contemporary Hum this year. 

I have spent much time in the past few years moving between collaborative projects (Berlin/NY/NZ), residencies (India/China/Germany), commissioned group works (e.g NZ's Footnote Dance Company) and a trilogy of interactive solo works (Europe, US, NZ) prior to this project. This project would be considering different ways in which solo work is influenced by collaborative processes and group projects, which are also facilitated. It will therefore in process involve conversations with others as a developing solo.

"Himalayan Fem Trash Activation: Alexa Wilson
a.k.a. The Angry Version

Similar to the “trigger warnings” said before some performances in certain “socially progressive” scenes in the past few years, New Zealand-born Alexa Wilson begins her bold, funny, and insightful piece by asking the audience, “Do you want the angry version or the reflective version?” 

We said angry." -Jorge Rodolfo De Hoyos, Critique 

This is a work in progress during 2018 to present in Berlin, London and New Zealand.

WAITING FOR A STRAY DOG : THE INDIA ALBUM

(by The Stolen Alchemist Trauma Clinic)

WAITING FOR A STRAY DOG : THE INDIA ALBUM

(with a bias toward animals especially monkeys)

Feat epic hidden tracks by dj luna c feat Red

Side One

A Side

1. (Too many) Names for an exhibition

2. Eye of the Tiger

3. Stolen monkey skull, performed naked just for you

4. Lost property

5. Der Motherland

6. What is an edge to you?

7. No Internet

8. Stolen call

9. Lost (animal) call

10. Stolen culture

11. (In search of) Kali (within)

12. human being “art / human doing “art”

13. So much generosity

14. Broken cactus in my room

15. Dead puppy at the airport

16. Ram in a Temple

17. Stolen Swastika

18. Happy puppies

19. Silence

20. 4 dreams about my mother, 2 about my father

Side Two

B Side

21. Person orders / Person(ality) DISorders / play on words

22. Playing chess / doing chess / being chess

23. Lipstick in the mountains

24. Meow

25. The mountains are mocking my silence

26. I am mocking the mountains

27. Open Improv in Radical practice for the mountains

28. Shall i show you my best moves to the mountains?

29. What are my best moves?

30. What are my worst moves?

31. What is a movement?

32. Vulnerability

33. Why did/do you get naked?

34. The monkeys are mocking my silence

35. Too much food

36. Too many nice people in one space at one time

37. Jazmine porn star rap

38. Many kinds of Bell / 444

39. Life is immersive theatre ('thats why you're the curator')

40. Lost Monkey

Side Three

A Side

41. ENOUGH!

42. So beautiful

43. 'Perverted eyes'

44. This train of thought will wreck

45. Unhinged Rant

46. Unwritten sky

47. Nude =+ Zero

48. Failure success

49. human “Art” = monkey skull

50. Between conversations

51. Motorbiking in the Himalayas toward no Kali figurines left in the shop

52. Photos of monkeys

53. Kalu the dog

54. Happy and Japati

55. Mother Tongue feat. Spooky house

56. Multiple Snake dreams

57. Wake up to your fucking power

58. The Bees will love this

59. Why do I spit on myself?

60. You think you know me but you don't know anything about me

Side Four

B Side

61. Suck the hegemony

62. Lady Constellation

63. Stolen Alchemist Trauma Center / Power Center

64. Fuck the hegemony

65. Lost thoughts

66. Interrupted promise

67. Is this transformation?

68. I love you

69. Imaginary morning class in gyration

70. Chopping an apple obsessively microphoned, explaining my life

71. SEX

72. Queens will pay

73. 'Trash Queen'

74. 'You ran away from the Queen'

75. Mother India

76. Rose coloured plastic

77. Benezir – daughter of the east

78. Bandit Queen

79. I ran away from nothing

80. Smash rape culture

Epic hidden tracks by Dj Luna feat Red (without bias on animals/monkeys)

81. Take my art seriously

82. Maam, your voice is slow, soft and sweet and your handwriting is beautiful

83. Showing my best/worst moves/thoughts to the mountains

84. So much joy in the cold

85. 999 written on the cliff face

86. Face to face

87. Too charming

88. Posing with a cactus and toilet rolls for a portrait

89. Lost and found

90. A dream is a poem

91. Reinacting the first time I saw the band Fundamental performing in balaclavas at Western Springs Park

92. Electrified

93. Electricity cut / creates intimacy

94. Dream in german means Traum as in trauma

95. Seminal moments on your timeline

96. Fuck healing

97. Fire, sparks

98. Can i laugh now?

99. Has anyone here done prostrations?

100. Pain and poverty / starving children

101. Dalmations (couldnt help it)

102. Capitalism

103. When can i laugh?

104. Wiping off dirt

105. Throwing a toilet roll into the forest in an open improv felt liberating

106. Power, chaos. Creation.

107. What is beyond Community?

108. Destruction

109. The body, something to do with the body

110. And something else I forgot

111. Bodies of water and text e/merging

112. We are all products of Colonization

113. Is talk cheap?

114. Let silence weep

115. Waiting for a tiger

116. So many stray dogs

117. Do something that fails / to remember

118. Alive to RAGE

119. Crying in my dreams

120. Monkey tears (ok only monkey reference in these hidden tracks)

121. No fear

122. 'I only fear heartbreak'

123. Let your heart break until it opens (Stolen from Rumi the sufi – poet)

124: I never intended to get into the Ganges, but it happened and it changed my life

Response to Kali: Kali's Response

I wrote this to artist Hélène Lefebvre who attended the residency I curated in India on New Year's Day arriving back from India to Berlin who had written me the nicest email as an inspiring artist:

My experience of FORMLESSNESS / NOTHINGNESS albeit SURRENDER / LETTING GO / of KNOWLEDGE / UNDERSTANDING and therefore embracing ILLUMINATION / POTENTIAL in my 2 performance experiences (NAKED/BLACK) in the beginning of the residency on the roof and also toward the end on the Ganges River in Rishikesh, as illuminated by some of these words about KALI. And beyond this. Not at all created from this text, or from Kali, but this text very much contextualises these experiences of meditating/musing on both (nudity/black) for me in India during these performances. Just deepening into things I perceive already. Perhaps a renewal on how WE in the WEST can perceive both NUDITY and BLACK as a colour / conceptually / spiritually. 

I read this link only upon arriving back into Berlin on New Year's Eve as I was not in any way working from this in India but found it coincidental:

"Kali's nudity has a similar meaning. In many instances she is described as garbed in space or sky clad. In her absolute, primordial nakedness she is free from all covering of illusion. She is Nature (Prakriti in Sanskrit), stripped of 'clothes'. It symbolizes that she is completely beyond name and form, completely beyond the effects of maya (illusion). Her nudity is said to represent totally illumined consciousness, unaffected by maya. Kali is the bright fire of truth, which cannot be hidden by the clothes of ignorance. Such truth simply burns them away."

"The Goddess Kali is represented as black in color. Black in the ancient Hindu language of Sanskrit is kaala. The feminine form is kali. So she is Kali, the black one. Black is a symbol of The Infinite and the seed stage of all colors. The Goddess Kali remains in a state of inconceivable darkness that transcends words and mind. Within her blackness is the dazzling brilliance of illumination. Kali's blackness symbolizes her all-embracing, comprehensive nature, because black is the color in which all the colors merge; black absorbs and dissolves them.""Just as all colours disappear in black, so all names and forms disappear in her"

-- Mahanirvana Tantra

Disabled Theatre by Jerome Bel: A Critique for PhD & Post-Graduate Applications

Having read about Jerome Bel's live performance work for over 10 years mainly in the critical performance writing of Andre Lepecki, I fnally got to witness live a piece of this famous contemporary dance choreographer of our epoch at Hau Theater 1 in Berlin in 2013, called Disabled Theater. To be honest I was quite skeptical about Bel's work because I am not particularly interested in minimalism especially in live performance and dance, but this was one of the most compelling live performances I have seen at this high level of performance.

What I found most compelling was not only the work presented, but the activation it created within the audience because provocative work touching socio-politically taboo subjects was masterfully broached. What was most afecting however about Bel's work Disabled Theater was not only how starkly it presented the performers within their innate qualities as 'disabled theater' i.e bodies, theatricality, subjectivity, the theatre of life and identity, but how as a such a politically correct or non-correct subject such as the subjectivity and expression of mentally disabled people, the work maintained a subtlety and activated complex feelings in the audience as a mirror to society's conceits.

It stands out for me in recent years in performance at this level, because it achieved what minimalist work at its best cl/aims to achieve, which is that within its simplicity much like a haiku poem, it eluded to and activated so much complexity in both representation and the experiences of both performers and audience alike.

Simply what it did, as a description, was introduce 13 intellectually disabled performers all sitting in a semi circle of chairs facing the audience sequentially, in a series of simple introductions. Firstly each performer one by one stood in the centre and introduced their name and told us that 'the director Jerome Bel has asked me to stand for a minute' and stood for how long a minute was to them, which varied very much in length (1-10 mins), then in order each told us what disability they have, then in order what they do as a profession, all of whom said 'schauspieler/in' (actor/ess) each time saying 'the director Jerome Bel asked us to...'. 

Then 10 out of 13 were asked to perform a dance to music of their choice, which they did. 1 of the 3 who did not dance had a written speech, which he read about how his family are embarrassed about the performance, that they seem exploited, but that he feels good about it, and that he was angry with the director that he was not asked to make a dance. It ended with the 3 who had originally been excluded from presenting a dance also performing their own dance, to music of their choice.

Whether one 'likes' this work or not, because it is clearly aiming at provocation, and being very transparent about questions of exploitation in regard to the spectacle of disabled expression, the work for me so powerfully activated a large range of complex responses within audience members one only have admire the bravery of this work as one might also in theme with Lar Von Trier's flm The Idiots, which remains my favourite of his flms.

The history for the disabled is outlined in many theoretical texts, such as Foucault's Madness and Civilisation and we often see the disabled as a marker for what society wants to hide, reveal, protect, or delete throughout history, such as

when the Nazis eradicated the disabled as one of society's impurities. The fascism of that action is much clearer, to decide whether a socio-political group is worthy of existence by its use, but less clear is society's complex relationship to disability in contemporary society.

In putting Disabled Theater on show literally as 'theater' in a very self refexive title, the work refers to 'side show' or 'freak show' platforms from 100 years ago, and also the 'child-like' introductions and 'dances' we see in school performances, but more pertinently in the sense of daily life being treated as spectacle or child or marginalised within flm roles.

What is most powerful about the work is its self-refexive manner of inviting questions of subjectivity and who makes decisions for intellectually disabled people. Equally powerful is the refection or question of who has more of problem with them, the disabled theater performers or the audience? In the awkward and complex synergy created between audience and performers, each introduction by the performers invite both an awe and a questioning, not just of the director or society, but of ones own response, one's own spectalisation or romanticism of the disabled.

This is what distinguishes between the power of flm and the power of live performance in my view and why this work in its immediacy and embodiment of real subjectivities spoke more directly to audiences than the similarly conceptual frame of Lar Von Trier's work, which audiences were equally divided by. 'They are so free and child-like', 'so authentic, and we are not' are some comments I overheard. The fact that one of the performers mentioned that his family cried

and felt embarrassed and that he was exploited, was a powerful moment (not to mention one of respect between director and performer), similar to the ending of The Idiots, in which the realness of the seemingly most timid character, taking her 'inner idiot' home to her family unlike any other character, revealed so much courage and realness. This is not just theatre, but something extending into the fabric of people's lives and indeed society.

Work which goes to the heart of personal and political is for me incredibly compelling, where it is very difcult to remove oneself from the implications of the provocations in question. I aspire to make such work, and many times I do, but mostly through audience activity can it be easily accessed. Conceptually and philosophically the work appealed to me and went beyond the personal and political, or perhaps included all of the above in mirroring existential questions.

A Poem: Poetic response to New York (First time)

A Poem

Love letters to my love
Fast forward to Berlin—
No, to New York. I present my series of nose bleeds, crushed up used condoms with
eaten eggshells and underwear stuck to ATM machines in Berlin with a note and pen to leave a note, to whom I don't know, to a tired and bemused group of students and tutors, claiming it to be part of my expression of the sacred in daily life for the average female body in relation to money—attempting to bypass or transgress/transmute the clichéd relationship between—no big deal—how do they relate? Transaction, sharing, exchange, protection, just let the body bleed. Why stop the flow?
RE-late.
These ships are late. These relations are strained. I hear their brains straining.
It’s a body brain drain.
As they place money on my meditating naked body as an invite 'to open your hearts,
open your wallets and...' flock around me. 'Make a wish', I say to someone and then grab her hand like a beggar.
Rewind
to a gravel road. In New Zealand. Surreal expansive dusty rocky -scape. He put his hand over my mouth and screamed my name. He put dust in my hair and called me his baby, said I was wild, he was crazy for me, would I marry him?
Everyone likes a good story.
What's the true story?
The first time I made love I got carpet burns. You can use your imagination there—be
as heteronormative or not about it.
The big reveal is out. There are no secrets left to shout.

Listen to the big silence, the wise crone told me.

‘There's a woman trying to talk to you’, he said. ‘Should I listen to her?’ I asked. He shrugged.
Rewind.
Then I got a bloody nose from being smashed in the face by a rugby ball, and my brother deliberately ground me into the dirt to make me bleed. It was one time I really got really hurt—I liked playing sport with my family.
Fast forward.
‘Perhaps it’s too personal’, said one tutor. ‘Have you thought of taking yourself out of the picture and working with other people's bodies?’
Good point, Mr. Mister.
Mist.
Missed
the point.
Fast forward.
I miss my baby, when they ripped her from my arms. Don't say it’s useless, don't say
forget it, don't send me roses on your behalf. Love is mean, love hurts. I will love you til the end of time, I would wait a million years.
Not my words.
Rewind.
I was the only one who wouldn't sleep with someone else's boyfriend, so I didn't have
sex for a good five years. Present > gift.
Oh, this is WAY too personal.
Give me more pornography. The world needs more fake sex, more fake boobs, more

lies, more cancer, more plastic bags, more non-committal dismissive encounters. When the goat finally rode into the foyer it was like an epiphany for all. Rewind/made up.
I asked a Maori carving in a marae what I was and the answer was 'delivered'. Fast forward.
A visa appointment set, health insurance, a date with the KSK woman. A whole new world, a dance—is/it charades? I'm OK as long as it’s smooth...not Kafkaesque. Not KGB. Like before.
I hold out my hands for inspection.
I hold out.
Dreamt of both my deceased grandmothers in one dream and had a dream within a
dream, recalling the dream to a stranger. One said, 'French is important.' But then Paris was her favourite city.
Then he writes to me, ‘Je t'embrasse.’
Several performances in the past weeks, some of which I found tiresome but some very interesting moments—some brilliant moments, actually—squeezed through a keyhole. Yes, I am in the right place, a morphing of performance memories fading or collapsing together now into snow dust, fast, which will only evaporate before my eyes, fast. Oh, and these tiny little snowflakes on my clothing. I have never really noticed them before, but they are so perfect. A new friend, very sensitive, pointed them out. Allowing the moment to pass, we capture nothing. When we have the illusion of it, bliss. Always excellence from the street, too much, I have to close my eyes. I am inspired—life touches me, I am so grateful for my life. Even the ugliness inspires me. Fertile decay. Berlin is paradise, compared.
I hold out my hand.
I am an ambassador, I got told last week, for my country. Hahahahahaha.

Then there's your flood. What the hell? I want to know all about it!!! New York is really getting it too; I recall a whale washed up on the shore when I arrived after the hurricane... nature spewing up onto the dystopic metropolis. On the climate change front in New Zealand a famous filmmaker was swimming off the shore of a wild but popular west coast Auckland beach last week and got bitten by a shark, then when trying to alert someone, completely eaten by five in front of everyone. No one ever gets attacked by sharks in New Zealand, ever. I have in the past five or so years intuitively felt sharks very close in the water and got out, saw one jump in a very safe beach... and saw aerial shots to confirm my suspicion. They are coming closer!
Inside my hungry brain, there is so much space for new learning and experience, growing pains, growing hurts. Something will deliver—I feel like I am a mad woman, nattering to myself, birthing my own letters—see how insular? I am from New Zealand.
I say to him: Life is performative and poetic, in generalisation and detail... things are in motion. Life is life—lived. Shared. Known, unknown. Lost, found, dropped, held, cared for. Remembered, connected, fragmented. Allowed. Created. Believed. Questioned. Felt, heard. loved. Vulnerable. Alive. Precious.
Truth is only for us to know. It slips from sight, it’s OK. We breathe. We move. We touch.
liebe .x ale.x.a.wxyz. liebe zurück
He was swimming in the Mediterranean and suddenly saw these dark spots rising from beneath and yelled to his friends to SWIM. Deadly jellyfish were coming to the surface; only one of his friends was stung and had to go to hospital.
Rewind.
What are these scars on your wrists? I asked her. My boyfriend cut my hands off, with swords. She was the woman who saved her friend by protecting her with her arms and managed somehow to put her hands back onto the bones of her wrists before the

ambulance arrived. That is amazing. THAT is amazing.
Present/Past/Future/In the line of the sun, which looks like the path to GOD on the
water, one day I saw a question. This depression-soaked culture, repressed English hangover, could not crush the mystery I felt so deeply in my bones.
I was told by a healer once that I am an untameable horse with untrammeled creativity, indomitable; as much as people will, do and have tried to stop me.

"Theory is Practice" Suck my Üfoe: An Album from Berlin (unedited)

Alexa Wilson (B.I.T.C.H- aka Babe in Total Control of Herself)'s Triple LP- World Reunited- Triptych Trilogy Analogy (Plus epic hidden tracks)

Proposed Songs Frm Berlin '10- flowing from the river and love of truth

Feel free to put beats or lyrics to any of these songs anyone...

List of Tracks ('Life is performative')

A Side: 1

1.Meet you at Hermannplatz

2.Is this a dance Performance now?

3.In the shadow of Australia

4.I want crutches on the ubahn too

5.NZ- such a nice place to visit

6.What make you here?

7.Anymore Questions?

8.Ich Liebe Dich, Ich Liebe Dich auch Nicht

9. Its a crisis (within a crisis within)

10. Ghosts in your eyes

11. Don't lie, its just the drugs or alcohol talking

12. How many times do we have to go through or over this?

13. I have no limbs eyes

14. Don't beg off me, I know you're on welfare

15. Forced tips

16. I am not a tourist- I have no job either

17. Why should i tip you? you're rude and forgot my order

18. Zurück Bleiben Bitte

19. This train is going to terminate there!

20. Don't trip on the cobbles now

21. What's my name?

22. What day is it?

Hidden tracks A side 1

23. Let's all roll our eyes together now Europa

24. Hast du Lust? Kommst du mit?

25. Serial Killer lust stare

26. Foot massage in the park in vienna

27. In bed with tv

28. Dig up your heart and let's celebrate!

29. Second hand family photos

30. Don't mention the wall

31. You think i'm hot but you don't know me

32. You wouldn't like me when i'm angry :) (or maybe you would)

B Side 1

33. I sense much anger in you

34. You should know better you meditate

35. Bad dates/ judgment day

36. Chill out Frau Wilson

37. You aren't from the EU are you?

38. Not from round here are you?

39. Come here often to stand in the snow?

40. If you're from Italy or spain maybe, but Russia definitely not!

41. Text break up tips

42. Internet make ups x10

43. Another positions please

44. Eat life Peas

45. You must miss the ocean

46. Minimal techno is my lunch

47. Sticking plasters are falling off my nude wounds

48. You could make it – miracles do happen!

49. Man in white coming for me (yes he's a doctor)

50. Lady with the bloodshot eyes behind me

51. No i'm not a student, I wish

52. Just say yes or fuck off

53. I am sorry I am a jerk

54. Who's your community? Who?

55. Oh life

56. Can i wait in a queue for 3 more hours?

57. Sex, sex and more sexy sex

58. Open heart surgery

59. Crows circling in my eyes out the window

60. Soften the anus i mean the arms- freudian slip

61. I love my body do you love yours?

62. Whose more nude than you?

63. Whose more nude than who?

64. I like you but I feel sick

65. Never never land Berlin 10

66. Go home foreigners, stop genetrifying our city

Hidden tracks B side 1

67. 'Everyone wants to be an artist in Berlin'

68. Don't plant sacred plants in the gay cruising spot

69. I've taken everything

70. Drug dealers, frisbee and badminton in the park on sunday

71. African boys running from the cops past me meditating

72. Don't take my photo bitch

73. Girl with the lazy eyes

74. Balloon kids

A side 2

75. Call MY name, i've been waiting hours now!

76. Luck dragon's in my bed

77. Paying to use nature

78. I love your style especially your calm brown pants

79. Back home all the girls loved me

80. Want to take a trip to the lake with me and my dog on the full moon

81. Pash with no name

82. Butterflies

83. Slipping on dirty ice: still no crutches

84. Google english translator

85. Berlin ist verrückt !

86. Fahrschein 'ticket' please

87. Dance for us, actually no don't

88. Dances with axes and ladders

89. Was ist your point?

90. It must be so hard for you

91. Uncontrollable giggling, uncontrollably laughing at other people

92. Shadenfreude

93. I don't understand (anything)

94. So was machst du heute?

95. Tiger and half a butterfly

96. Poisoned by facepainting when you're trying to make a buck

97. Paint my picture (and get it right)

98. Sick and nude

99. Telling it like it is

100. Invalid city

101. City of opportunity and none

102. That's just governments

103. Millionaire Prime Minister

104. Steal my heart and my ideas- don't worry i am a 'source' person

105. Cheers to politics and art and a meeting of minds

106. Here today gone tomorrow: I wish i'd done Landmark forum

107. Are you in the schlange? (snake/queue)

108. Better watch your boyfriend bro

Hidden tracks B side 2

109. What's the score?

110. Raining on my foxes

111. The trees tell me i'm a liar

112. The trees are telling me you're a dickhead

113. Eyes are looking your way

114. I'm feeling sexy and creative

115. Maybe you should lower your standards

A side 3

116. Brainstorm like its an electric storm

117. Caught in the pouring rain (again)

118. Let's get nude and sing songs round the fire- no seriously

119. Extreme noise employed

120. All orifices are sensitive

121. Psychedelic fool

122. More rash cream yeah

123. Don't crush my dreams like a paper cup

124. Nuclear wedding

125. I'm not depressed i'm thoughtful

126. No more photos please!

127. Do you want my bottle? No i should keep it

128. Why are we not more evolved than this?

129. 2 kinds of Frau behind the desk

130. Hey Mickey... (wave from behind the karaoke mic)!

131. Keep your spirits up- like reflux

132. Oh shit I thought you were someone (else)

133. The street is my theatre

134. The trees are alive

135. Public Private thoughts divide

136. Don't take sides, it'll make you rich neutral

137. The war's not over, peace is near by though

138. Doves in my dreams only (in 'only the lonely' style)

139. Figure 8 of animal and human body parts dream

140. Stop the laughter, its hurting

141. Hot guy asleep at the doctor

142. When is it my turn?

143. Humility is humiliating

144. We are so affected by the weather eh?

145. We are all in this together, how's the cold?

146. Putting your head through this wall, put a helmet on

147. The pillow talks to me

148. No pain no game naturally

149. Superstadt (super city)

150. Heart tattoo on the forehead (just in the very corner)

Hidden Tracks A side 3

151. Man picking your nose i love you

152. Zug nach Hermannstrasse (Not)

153. Chased by BVG

154. They can't touch you

155. I wish they would touch me

156. Revolution inside this recession

157. Irony taken to the next level must be like heaven

B side 3

158. Over the handlebars again a bit like like over the rainbow

159. No sympathy is good for me

160. Blind date- syphilis is that you?

161. Caught in the train doors once more

162. Have you slipped into a coma yet?

163. Flags in my eyes its nationalism rising

164. They love helium balloons here

165. Staring at that space, brother you're fine

166. Yes no maybe happy romance

167. Schlecker in my lecker on the ecke

168. Oh my god oh my god

169. There's colours on my face

170. Ghost in your machine- wow you're NOT a lesbian?

171. Where can i find you?

172. Um, hallo. Click

173. Mental note

174. Falling over my face again, loving you

175. Have confidence in your courage

176. love is wicked!

177. Be the effect and the cause will follow

178. Life is a garden, rose and thorn are one

179. Love is courage

180. You evil bitch you are an evil ugly person

181. Only too much is good enough

182. Be realistic-plan for a miracle

183. Untitled

184. Untitled 2

185. Trust

186. How about giving my camera back?

187. Live, Love and Laugh

188. I love myself, hope you do too

Hidden Tracks B side 3

189. Sorry if sometimes i say wack shit

190. All apologies (cover of Nirvana)

191. No apologies

192. Take responsibility for your own shit

193. I bleed (a cover of Pixies)

194. Gold (not a cover of Pixies)

195. Priceless (Ballad)

196. Afterlife (not a cover of Tricky)

197. Hell's bells (Haiku)

198. We love smoke machines and poetry rising

199. 'Fuck you' 5 times a day helps clear the throat (quote zen osho)

200. I heart dance and music forever- its my fire... 

201. Love each other