I hope, then, that this my ontology, in being constantly self-referential is not turgid and grey, or on the other hand wishy-washy and overly indecisive. It is about what lies beyond cynicism and irony, what landscapes and vistas are on the other side.
It is about a stubborn (but flexbile and shifting) subjective eye, an eye open to the subtleties, magic and poetry of the everyday. The soul itself is sometimes, rigid, monotonous, recurrent, it dwells often on the same thoughts, but it also tires of these and seeks vivid contrasts, playing before its unchanging ardour like flames before water.