Sometimes I like to write in a stream of consciousness … tapping away without thinking and without stopping. No sentences, no rules – just flowing with the words.

My friend Dirk posted this amazing photo yesterday. I could create nice paragraphs about it, leading gradually to my insights. But not today.

I’ll just let go in a few minutes and see what comes. I’ll correct spelling mistakes later. There’s no good or bad, just words bubbling out of my mouth.

Why not?

***

Why am I doing this? Don’t care, font know don’t want to give nothing instead ho way inside these two

Who are you, dear men from the past and present? Who are you with your friends, with your sorrows? What has you fly into the air and dance around? And who do you dance with,?

Are you in Stone really long ago or are you hear now on my heart?

And fleshy one, where have you travelled? Who ate your companions? Have you seen the Roman ruins and tge skies of tomorrow?

Both of you! What have you learned here? Do you stay in your room or throw yourself into the world,,, what do you hunger for? What throws you sideways and dims uour mi d?

Are you me Are you a woman sometimes Will you ever grow old and feeble and slow and tired?

Is there eternity here in your faces or just a passing shower? Do you emergency from the rain with your head held high or is the umbrella your best friend?

Are we brothers? Some how do you know my joys and collapses in Belgium. Do we all speak foreign languages and yet see the truth in each other’s eyes?

What colour are here? You look bright, vivid, alive. Nio dull browns. No washed out half-assed efforts to fit in. Give me your red sobright give me your swathes of the brush on the canvas. No walls just flowing around f the circles of the world. Who is there in China? Do you see your friends sitting so far away?

Butni- not far away. Right here on the tip of your nose. Can you feel each other’s breath so warm on the cheek?

Will you stay for a vist or will you fly off home, never to be seen again? Is there a beginning here or so.e conclusion- so.e moving on from. This now to the next?

Willoughby be full of life or empties too easily? Will you k ow e erythi g or nothing?

Will we all die or is that just a mistake in judgment? Are you here u til time wi ds down? Will we laughed and cry forever?

Let’s findout.

***

I went non-stop. Just finished now. I can feel my head dipping down a bit with silliness such as “Was it any good?” And now that thought has flown.

There’s freedom here … floating up into the sky. A few spelling corrections and I’m on to the next.

Or … how about no spelling corrections? I guess that runs the risk of you not understanding me, but so what?

I just got it – I don’t need you to understand. And so I publish. Ah yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll publish without reading what I wrote.

Why not?