It all seems very strange. I mean being like this. Having to think. Thinking about things. Especially like this. It is confusing yet makes so much sense. Seeing pictures organised in grids, talking out of sorts. Playing with words. Who do you think you are? Who do I think I am? Who gave you the right to think like this? Playing with words is a game. Playing with images is a game. Playing games is fun isn’t it? What would I know about games? Hoop jumping and trying to convince people I am worth while. Nobody cares as long as the composition is ok. As long as the words fit together into a legible sentence. Isn’t that enough? No far from enough. You have to take off and launch yourself into space. It is sweat, it is thought, it is a way of thinking. The thought has to carry and find its mark.

In general I feel like I need to be creative. There are a series of questions that are proposed and it feels right to explore the questions through an act. An act of thought. Through the act of writing thoughts that hopefully will be answered through the act itself.