Once again I am facing a situation which itself is an unference. Was facing, that is.

Until I realised it wasn’t by chance I coined a term I wasn’t able to tie a suitable content to.

My creativity paired with my total inapritude to execute my creations is the utmost blistering, echoing example of what an unference is.

Any description? None as of yet.

The thing that shouldn’t be? An oxymoron? A paradoxon? They all miss the target.

For this is an unference, The very notion of an unference is an unference itself. How to explain it? How to put it into words?

My brain giving birth to melodies I am unable to record properly for singing falsely, let alone play?

My being a polyglot desired by a lot of companies but not let go further for the same reason I am hired for?

My getting around pretty much everywhere I put my foot in, and not finding a new home after losing my original one?

I guess everyone has stories and parts of their life that defy, if not devour themselves. Impossibilities that keep existing and tormenting body and soul.

In fact, the word unference should not exist either, and, to be more precise – it does not exist.

Who cares? When you find yourself surrounded by birds informing each other the blizzard is over – nothing can bear even a far comparison to this sound – and celebreating the comeback of spring, or you just come across an ironing board – something you were actually in dire need of – when you are actually supposed to be lost, stranded and banned – there is nothing better to do than take these unferences in your palm and caress them until they start blooming.

For spring will be over, sooner or later, but it is the unferences that make life different from death.

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