Hi Joseph,
Hope all is well. Liv and I have worked through your script in rehearsal and have come up with an edit for your approval. Both of us are really attracted to the material in your piece about the various sensations and memories that your character experiences and the dream-like scape at the end. And a result we have tried to giv a throughline of the matierial in this light, as well cutting most of the material that 'explains' or describes the world in a literary way. Let us know what you think.. thanks for your work so far.
Cheers Rochelle

Suggested draft:
On the day I was censored, Sven and I weren't talking. We'd slept that night in the same bed, even rolled over a few times into eachothers arms, but by morning the previous night's argument had reasserted itself and we went through our wake up routines in unchartered silence.
B -Team were sent in to Censor me a 12.38pm - they found me by my work pod and engaged me with little trouble. All sujects listed for censoring are paralysed rather than knocked out. I remember the pain as a thousand fine hair-like needles pierced my skin, and then weightlessness, as if my body had simply dropped away from me like a fallen robe on a bothroom floor.
I was fully aware of every humility they put me through, the rough hands that scratched over my body, the harsh grunts of men deprived of any humanity, the fetid stench of vehicles filled with overwieght sweating men - I just couldn't FEEL. My body soiled, briused, swollen, I was eventually feed naked into the body pipes. Blood poured from several wounds; a massive bruise reached from somewhere on my back across my front and down my left leg; several of my fingers broken, three toes missing, skin torn from beneath my jaw.
A short skinny man prods at my body with thick rubber gloves covering large knuckled hands, his teeth are spotless and smells faintly of a newborn baby.
Many of those censored find their bodies mangled beyond reckoning when they reach their final destination. You see, the TNA are predominantly concerned with the brain, the key to deviant behaviour, and bodies are expendable, they will always have enough.
My brain and body were successfully separated and my body sold to the Rent district.
A brain deprived of its body goes through some funny turns, one could call it a forced evolution process, you see at first you grieve your loss, go crazy confined to your thoughts, trapped within your fears. But the amazing thing is a human brain soon learns that this is no way to get on. And once it finally realises - it's a case of put-up or shut- up. Things get a lot easier, no less lonely, but easier.
I imagine I have just finished another 18 hour shift serviceing the desires of the tax-free classes. I am tired, but lack the emotional resource to express it - the hurting. I don't see the point of easing her pain, expecting another child - I simply do not have the capacity to care. It is in this state that Sven finds me, or should I say the physical resemblance of me, breaks down at my feet and weeps and me all the things I needed to hear, looking at those lifeless eyes, with the hope of a missing daughter, the love of an estranged lover, and tears of a man who lost everything. And somehow, I hear him, some miracle enables my floating brain to connect to the body it had lost, gives me the power to override the cold working of the AI and reach a hand out to him, to hold his face and say every word that should never been left unspoken.