An adventure in text

Some of the words that have found their way from mind to screen or paper or both

[pluralityofreason]

Flit flit flit

Like a sheeny shiny fish looping round the bowl

Left left bink

Right right bink

Flit flit flit

[pluralityofreason]

Above all what fascinates me is people - the relationships with themselves, with others, the weaving together of my life and yours and the institutions that bring us together. I strive to understand others' positions, their perception of a relationship, a situation... But I am always falling short, and don't allow myself to engage and really make the relationship what I imagine it could be. Just every once in a while I meet a person with whom it works - I feel conversation flowing as a natural, twisting thread with a beginning but no end, not the studied, choreographed back and forth performance that I am usually obligated to undertake. I wish it could be every time, every person.

Observing others from the outside, it so often seems an effortless relationship is something widely held, eluding I and I alone. Do they, too, feel the fear that I feel? The fear of being found out as incapable and simply devoid of what makes a human accessible, a friend?

[pluralityofreason]

Arcing across the restless, frothing, flowing grey of the water, the bridge stands proudly, quietly connecting the neighbourhood to the main body of the city. Wrapped up in scaffolding, tarpaulin, graffitied tags both faded and fresh, its muted green structure peeks through, waiting until it is finally returned to its former glory. To sit by its side in summer is to see the sun beam down upon the Rhine transforming it from a grey industrial waterway to a gleaming blue ribbon through the city.

[pluralityofreason]

Not I, a fly

Oh how I wish I could be a fly

And flit about upon the sky

Who cares about all this and that

Or bothers themselves about a spat

Not I, not I

A little fly

Oh how I wish I were an otter

Float and roll and around I'd totter

The currents would drift me away from home

Happy I would be to roam

Not any bother

For this little otter

[pluralityofreason]

On loss of creativity

The greatest fear, in the forefront, the back, everywhere in my mind – this is all I have to give. Reproduce, regurgitate, nothing new or novel.

It seemed back then, back when, it all flowed and streamed out of my pen, through my mind, my fingers, the ink and the page.

At what stage did it dry up, curl up, give up

My mind, blank

reduced to the practical

the pragmatic

Completing tasks tick

tick

tick

Looking inwards, casting and casting, retrieving all but nothing

Empty handed and wondering where it all went.