I sit on my own bed sheets. I place on them a boxcutter, a toy gun, a jar of ink and a pack of cigarettes. I kneel on the sheets, and as I light a cigarette, Summer Breeze by CocoRosie begins to play. For the duration of the song, I write in black ink on my sheets, things which people have said to me at work insinuating sexual violence, or regarding my looks. Every time I write a new quote, I use the boxcutter to rip my shirt. The performance lasts for roughly four and a half minutes. I am left half naked, breathing heavily, on a pile of dirty sheets.