I had been challenged by the incredible poet and artist Adriana to write a story about a river flowing its way down towards the unknown. I’ve decided to create an inner monologue in the perspective of a water molecule within the stream, yet the abstract view can mirror the far bigger journey, that is life itself.

As a natural water cycle, from rain to ground water, from ground water to rivers, from rivers to the sea, from the sea to vapor, from vapor to rain always carries on without and end, I purposely omitted the use of “and” completely.

I hope you enjoy.

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I’ll give you

A Streamline Monologue

by Gregor

Where, where am I? I remember, remember nothing but darkness. Does it matter? No, no I don’t think it does. It never has, it will never do. What matters is that I keep moving forward. My inner self tells me to; but I am not alone. There are others, others following the same path, following their inner voice, following me; like I follow others. The journey we share is rough, full of stones, full of dead ends. Some of the others I will never see again. I cannot say goodbye; I do not want to anymore after so many times. I also stopped welcoming every new follower, who joins me in my fate; in our fate. With every new advent member merging into the ever-growing crowd, the immense pull towards our shared purpose elates every single movement of us. There is an us now? Yes, yes there is. I realized that my journey was never truly mine to choose, nor was I able to overcome all obstacles on the way alone. Sometimes I need to push us forward, sometimes I am pushed in a gentle, yet urgency invoking manner. In those brief moments where I trust the others to lead, I am able to catch a glimpse of the wonders that surround us alongside the way. Our path is accompanied by temporary spectators in their houses of living wood, castles of artificial steel. Dancing flames of breathing souls walk with us, feed from our inspiration, our curse, turning it into a blessing for themselves. In the distant I see a fire ashing in the reigns of order, consuming all nearby life, fusion it into its own chaos. It is beautiful. I would like to stay, like to watch the arbitrariness, but my own deterministic path leads me forward, always forward. How long has it been already? Years, Months, Weeks, Days, Hours? I cannot say, but the all the crossroads, blockages, storms on my journey increases the weariness of my tired self. But I move on, we move on, visioning the end of our suffering to be close; or closer at least. Alas! It truly is. Our pilgrimage is about to end, I see the signs. Broader roads at slower speed is only one of a few. Most of all it is the salty breeze we all feel; we all strive for. After all, after everything, we made it, I made it. I feel the warmth, I feel my purpose fulfilled, I feel that it is worth to be water staring from its spring flowing all the way as a river to the salty sea. I feel free.

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