Truth is a River door Birds Without Gender
21-11-2025
Wat gebeurt er wanneer we stoppen met zoeken naar één enkele waarheid? Welke waarheden leven er tussen ons? En kunnen we leren omgaan met meerdere waarheden tegelijk?
Tijdens deze OPEN DEUR: Schrijflab met Birds Without Gender (die/diens) verkenden we de diversiteit, complexiteit en onvolledigheid van waarheid en onderzochten we samen waarheid (als verhaal, als trauma, als hoop, als plezier, als rivier…).
Op deze pagina kun je fragmenten van teksten lezen die tijdens de workshop zijn geschreven door Birds en andere deelnemers.
Over Birds Without Gender
Birds WG (die/diens) is schrijver, performancekunstenaar en healer, gevestigd in Rotterdam.
Diens werk richt zich op de complexiteit van het menselijk bestaan.
Die zien diversiteit en dialoog als methode voor conflictoplossing en vrede.
Die geloven dat woorden en beelden onmiskenbare helende krachten zijn.
Diens werk bestaat uit persoonlijke fictie, poëzie en tekst voor performance.
Tijdens groepssessies en live muziek improvisaties doen die schrijf-improvisaties en dat doen ze met groot plezier.
I like the stars. As the night falls I surrender to the currents of the river, face up, I am looking at the stars. This is my plan. To look at the stars , to not be scared, to not be fucking scared and keep looking at the stars. To not be fucking scared that I will lose all my friends, that I will lose all my lovers, that I will be unloved and fucking lonely. This is my plan: to not be scared.
(© 2025 Birds Without Gender)
*
I asked you this morning do you have enough touch in your life? Who does? Do people touch enough? Is it sufficient, is it pleasurable, is it triggering, are we enjoying, are we tolerating, are we asking for what we want, are we saying no when it is a no, are we saying yes when it is a yes, is our skin happy, do we get enough oxytocin, when will we stop counting on lovers for tenderness, when will we upgrade friendships, colleagues, and other acquaintances, when will we begin to integrate them in our networks of tenderness? There needs to be more work, more talking, more writing, more art, in order for pleasure to begin to feel pleasurable, in order for us to become this amount of safe to each other.
(© 2025 Birds Without Gender)
You can scream and shout, and crawl your way out, but until you face it... truly face it, it will always come back for you, as it is not a demon or a monster. What is chasing you will always be within you. Maybe you were born with it. Maybe you received it from your mother or your father, or that friend you used to play with when you were younger. But that “monster” is just you and all the parts that you deny.
(© 2025 Nikoleta Dicheva)
*
I felt the textures of everything, the energies... and yet you called out to me. I took you in my hand and I squeezed you. I felt the spikes on my skin, so I squeezed harder – it hurt. You were perfect, yet so imperfect.
(© 2025 Nikoleta Dicheva)
you once told me: I’ve never seen someone smoking as many cigarettes as I do
and yes, that’s what I was doing when I didn’t know what to do with my hands,
or with my thoughts about how I was being perceived
but I quit smoking, and my new toy was the ring that I begged you to give me
but I l lost that too
is it who I am? a loser?
were the things you said to me true?
I swear I didn’t want it to forget it there
but I am glad I lost it
because if I still had it, it would be on my left forefinger now—
and that would be miserable
do you even know what it takes to be this selfish?
what is the rationale behind my actions? —do I even know?
all I know is that I long for something that’s not there,
I once read somewhere: “you can easily go back to the past, but there’s no one
there.”
that’s bullshit. I am there
am I nobody?
I am someone!
I am someone.
(© 2025 Fatih)
I sat there, listening to old friends, schoolmates and family talk. Most of them had never said a word to me. But that day, we were all connected by one thing only: love for him.
And I had never heard so much truth spoken in my life, before or since, about the living or the dead.
(© 2025 Lili B. Uj)
*
Think smaller. A human heart; yours, your mother’s, your best friend’s, a stranger’s. It beats with a passion that no one can quite comprehend. It is entirely unique; there are thousands like it, but none the same.
Smaller. The freckles across your worry-ridden face. Smaller. The web of your veins. The never-ending network of nerve endings. Clusters of cells, ever-moving, turning, spinning, colliding. A million locks with a million keys that fit perfectly. So logical, so mechanical that it almost seems engineered, but so, so alive. You’re looking at impossible distances now. Can you go smaller?
(© 2025 Lili B. Uj)
I can drive myself insane, going in circles to find the truth, searching in my memory for faded snapshots, softened at their edges and blurred by the passing of time, endlessly remembering the memory instead of the moment. Was what I see the truth? Maybe they all remember it differently. Is it enough if it is my truth? Does it have to be enough? Who decides? If I settle for accepting it as such, am I missing out on something? Some big revelation, something universal and indisputable that will explain everything? A new perspective that is all-encompassing?
There is contentment to be found in my not-truth. The uncertainty is welcoming; the doubt and unknown greet me with familiar words.
(© 2025 Nathaly Véghová)
*
Do I carry this strange melancholy with me so obviously as well, I wonder. Can you smell the cedary notes of restraint and the sharp bergamot of shame? Will this particular scent ever air out or will I drag it with me through apartments and cafés?
Maybe it is simply about balance. The joy can never become overwhelming or singular. How would I then know to cherish it? Is it really defined by its scarcity? I don’t know if I want to believe that. I think that happiness would be beautiful even unrestrained.
(© 2025 Nathaly Véghová)
Over OPEN DEUR
De OPEN DEUR workshops nodigen nieuwe publieken uit in Clublokaal en onderzoeken wat toegankelijkheid en artistieke ervaring kunnen betekenen. Hoe kunnen we onze ruimte op een betekenisvolle manier openstellen voor anderen? Hoe kunnen we onze ideeën over wat kunst is en wie kunst maakt verruimen?
In een reeks participatieve sessies verkennen we deze vragen door samen te maken.
We wissen bewust de grenzen tussen ‘artistiek maken’ en ‘ambacht’. Deze bijeenkomsten gaan over kennisdeling, collectieve ervaring en het plezier van samen creëren.
Clublokaal wordt ondersteund door de Gemeente Breda, Provincie Noord-Brabant en Stichting KLEIO.
Truth is a River door Birds Without Gender
21-11-2025
Wat gebeurt er wanneer we stoppen met zoeken naar één enkele waarheid? Welke waarheden leven er tussen ons? En kunnen we leren omgaan met meerdere waarheden tegelijk?
Tijdens deze OPEN DEUR: Schrijflab met Birds Without Gender (die/diens) verkenden we de diversiteit, complexiteit en onvolledigheid van waarheid en onderzochten we samen waarheid (als verhaal, als trauma, als hoop, als plezier, als rivier…).
Op deze pagina kun je fragmenten van teksten lezen die tijdens de workshop zijn geschreven door Birds en andere deelnemers.
Over Birds Without Gender
Birds WG (die/diens) is schrijver, performancekunstenaar en healer, gevestigd in Rotterdam.
Diens werk richt zich op de complexiteit van het menselijk bestaan.
Die zien diversiteit en dialoog als methode voor conflictoplossing en vrede.
Die geloven dat woorden en beelden onmiskenbare helende krachten zijn.
Diens werk bestaat uit persoonlijke fictie, poëzie en tekst voor performance.
Tijdens groepssessies en live muziek improvisaties doen die schrijf-improvisaties en dat doen ze met groot plezier.
I like the stars. As the night falls I surrender to the currents of the river, face up, I am looking at the stars. This is my plan. To look at the stars , to not be scared, to not be fucking scared and keep looking at the stars. To not be fucking scared that I will lose all my friends, that I will lose all my lovers, that I will be unloved and fucking lonely. This is my plan: to not be scared.
(© 2025 Birds Without Gender)
*
I asked you this morning do you have enough touch in your life? Who does? Do people touch enough? Is it sufficient, is it pleasurable, is it triggering, are we enjoying, are we tolerating, are we asking for what we want, are we saying no when it is a no, are we saying yes when it is a yes, is our skin happy, do we get enough oxytocin, when will we stop counting on lovers for tenderness, when will we upgrade friendships, colleagues, and other acquaintances, when will we begin to integrate them in our networks of tenderness? There needs to be more work, more talking, more writing, more art, in order for pleasure to begin to feel pleasurable, in order for us to become this amount of safe to each other.
(© 2025 Birds Without Gender)
You can scream and shout, and crawl your way out, but until you face it... truly face it, it will always come back for you, as it is not a demon or a monster. What is chasing you will always be within you. Maybe you were born with it. Maybe you received it from your mother or your father, or that friend you used to play with when you were younger. But that “monster” is just you and all the parts that you deny.
(© 2025 Nikoleta Dicheva)
*
I felt the textures of everything, the energies... and yet you called out to me. I took you in my hand and I squeezed you. I felt the spikes on my skin, so I squeezed harder – it hurt. You were perfect, yet so imperfect.
(© 2025 Nikoleta Dicheva)
you once told me: I’ve never seen someone smoking as many cigarettes as I do
and yes, that’s what I was doing when I didn’t know what to do with my hands,
or with my thoughts about how I was being perceived
but I quit smoking, and my new toy was the ring that I begged you to give me
but I l lost that too
is it who I am? a loser?
were the things you said to me true?
I swear I didn’t want it to forget it there
but I am glad I lost it
because if I still had it, it would be on my left forefinger now—
and that would be miserable
do you even know what it takes to be this selfish?
what is the rationale behind my actions? —do I even know?
all I know is that I long for something that’s not there,
I once read somewhere: “you can easily go back to the past, but there’s no one
there.”
that’s bullshit. I am there
am I nobody?
I am someone!
I am someone.
(© 2025 Fatih)
I sat there, listening to old friends, schoolmates and family talk. Most of them had never said a word to me. But that day, we were all connected by one thing only: love for him.
And I had never heard so much truth spoken in my life, before or since, about the living or the dead.
(© 2025 Lili B. Uj)
*
Think smaller. A human heart; yours, your mother’s, your best friend’s, a stranger’s. It beats with a passion that no one can quite comprehend. It is entirely unique; there are thousands like it, but none the same.
Smaller. The freckles across your worry-ridden face. Smaller. The web of your veins. The never-ending network of nerve endings. Clusters of cells, ever-moving, turning, spinning, colliding. A million locks with a million keys that fit perfectly. So logical, so mechanical that it almost seems engineered, but so, so alive. You’re looking at impossible distances now. Can you go smaller?
(© 2025 Lili B. Uj)
I can drive myself insane, going in circles to find the truth, searching in my memory for faded snapshots, softened at their edges and blurred by the passing of time, endlessly remembering the memory instead of the moment. Was what I see the truth? Maybe they all remember it differently. Is it enough if it is my truth? Does it have to be enough? Who decides? If I settle for accepting it as such, am I missing out on something? Some big revelation, something universal and indisputable that will explain everything? A new perspective that is all-encompassing?
There is contentment to be found in my not-truth. The uncertainty is welcoming; the doubt and unknown greet me with familiar words.
(© 2025 Nathaly Véghová)
*
Do I carry this strange melancholy with me so obviously as well, I wonder. Can you smell the cedary notes of restraint and the sharp bergamot of shame? Will this particular scent ever air out or will I drag it with me through apartments and cafés?
Maybe it is simply about balance. The joy can never become overwhelming or singular. How would I then know to cherish it? Is it really defined by its scarcity? I don’t know if I want to believe that. I think that happiness would be beautiful even unrestrained.
(© 2025 Nathaly Véghová)
Over OPEN DEUR
De OPEN DEUR workshops nodigen nieuwe publieken uit in Clublokaal en onderzoeken wat toegankelijkheid en artistieke ervaring kunnen betekenen. Hoe kunnen we onze ruimte op een betekenisvolle manier openstellen voor anderen? Hoe kunnen we onze ideeën over wat kunst is en wie kunst maakt verruimen?
In een reeks participatieve sessies verkennen we deze vragen door samen te maken.
We wissen bewust de grenzen tussen ‘artistiek maken’ en ‘ambacht’. Deze bijeenkomsten gaan over kennisdeling, collectieve ervaring en het plezier van samen creëren.
Clublokaal wordt ondersteund door de Gemeente Breda, Provincie Noord-Brabant en Stichting KLEIO.
Kloosterlaan 138
4811 EE Breda
kloosterlaan138 [at] gmail [dot] com
Schrijf je in voor de nieuwsbrief
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Foto's door Hussel Zhu
Illustraties door Ester Venema
Kloosterlaan 138
4811 EE Breda
kloosterlaan138 [at] gmail [dot] com
Schrijf je in voor de nieuwsbrief
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