Be1ngs. With a 1 in place of the I. Many of them.
1 as I. As I am 1.
1 as singular, with concessions.
A be1ng caught in the act of creating her own reality.
I am 1, a be1ng, who brings things into being.
I am multiple, thereafter. Proudly so.
A be1ng caught exploring multiplicity.
I am everybody. Identity for me is self-creation.
That includes the environment I inhabit.
I divert, and enjoy that a lot.
A be1ng caught in the performance of appearing.
I am exalted by diversities, and strive to take things to extremes.
I seal myself in second skins or shield myself in balloons.
Collars are my idea of elevation. Drawstrings allow me reconfiguration.
In toes is my geometry. I bloom therefore I am.
A be1ng caught hanging there.
I find things that speak to me, in space and time.
Out of scale, soft to the touch. Furry. Shaggy. Papery.
I wear moments. I speak hours. Back and forth.
I feel patterns, in the rain.
A be1ng caught in the logic of the illogical.
My thoughts are algorithms. Errors give them rhythm.
Randomness is my idea of bliss. Experiences are what I dress up with.
I digress in artificial pleasures.
Be1ngs, enjoying bringing things into being. Creating and re-creating. Making, doing, mending, collaging, clashing, merging, morphing, to infinity and back.
Be1ngs, being themselves.
Many of them.
And more.