Welcome to my Stream September 15th 6.27pm to 6.32pm

I need to tell you something before we go any further -

Come here.

I don't like letting you in here

Because it's mine.

Not Gollum mine, although it is precious

But because this stream is personal

To me and as such, I hold it dear

Because it's the only bit of me that I know is truly mine.

I protect it and nurture it and love it.

After all, it's my very essence,

And so, if you're coming in, you need to wipe your feet

The mat does not say "Welcome" but it doesn't say "Beware" either

Although maybe you should,

Beware that is

Because this stream is a strange place;

Sometimes it moves so fast that, like a hat in the rapids,

An idea is gone before it's been captured or retrieved

And the colourful creativity idea is already lost

Before it's even been noticed.

Sometimes, this stream is sluggish and black

Like a black slug that you don't want to have anything to do with

Because its glistening skin and slow-moving pace speaks of

Hardship and containment and something that you don't want near you.

It is a dark place, lacking golden nuggets in its bed.

Maybe it's oil? Nah, I've used that image before.

Back to the mataphor.

Metaphor, I mean. Stupid typo. Mataphor. Matador. I wonder what a mataphor would be.

I imagine one like an embroidered devil, swishing and capering about,

Fighting off platitudes and idioms with a light sabre. Darth Maul.

Been done before.

Saber. Let's do English.

Sabre.

Cutting off and maybe that's where I should end.

Things are cooking in the kitchen and I don't want anything to boil over

Least of all me.

Thanks for coming.

Close the door on the way out.