My early years, continuing.

Things may not always be what they seem, but my voice sure sounds like the voice of a goat herder:

Would you stubborn beast eventually move over in this direction?

It's puzzling, how anybody could talk for a longer period of time to goats, but the answer lies in the root of that behaviour, I'm convinced that I have to move on, that time isn't waiting, but demanding.

I haven't turned to the study of how to set the goats in motion, I've just observed some patterns. I'd rather convert than manipulate. But then some beast will always feel the change in the weather first.

That's the projection of the true state of things into this world and my life in particular. It has to express itself in the limited language of social relations. I'm drawn to stubbornness, and so that is my world. It's like a bird landing on a rock. You don't really know the bird from the rock it landed on.

So, like with the seeds I guess, under the thorns and on the rocks, but the stubbornness that draws me is neither overladen, nor fickle, it's a form of carelessness, of thinking that anything can be dealt with at a later date, the seeds then might just need their time.

Not much to be seen for the time being, except which season it is.