Text: “Tanz des Seins“ (spoken out during performance)

What am I? I don‘t know. I am many things and nothing. I can be whatever I want. Which figure do I take? Just here, then there and there. Yesterday I was nothing, and today the same, but different. What will I be like tomorrow? Come, dance with me, watch me dance. I jump around quickly, fall over and get up. Take on new figures, at any moment. Do you see how I dance? Do you see how I shine? I am bright, when you sink into me, I am the brightness. Then you can dance and flow and jump and laugh and cry with me. Can you still see me? I get bigger and smaller, depending on how you look. I zoom in on details to examine them closely, but a lot is left out in the process. I see a lot, but only a little. It is impossible to perceive everything, always only excerpts, small glimpses, all complete and indispensable in themselves. But what does it look like when these sections are put together? Can they do this at all, and what does it change? A mirror would be good, I want to see myself, I want to realise what I am and how many I am. Shortly afterwards, I realise that I myself am a mirror, even if I can‘t see it, I can feel it. Not one mirror, yes, many. And everything that I am and was and can be shows itself through them. However, these are only the images of myself. I am not me, even if it shows parts of me. Because who is always the same? Every minute, every second I am new, always new, never the same. What was I like before I became new? Was I tall, short, light or dark? Was I everything together or not? What am I like now? I can‘t follow, I change too quickly, I can‘t reflect how I feel because I am always new. As soon as I communicate, it no longer applies, the new thing is here. I try to catch it, set a trap for it, but it is faster than everything, unstoppable, moving on and on. It speeds up and slows down, turns and turns and keeps on turning.
I‘m confused and don‘t know where to go, so many paths, so many directions, everything open. Which is the right direction? I turn faster, lose control, no longer recognise which direction I‘m going in. Which one is the beginning and which one is the end? In the beginning there was nothing, that can‘t be true, because I was there. When will the end be, if there is one? Even if you don‘t see me, I am always there. I am in different places at the same time, in different forms. Does that mean that everything happens simultaneously? I divide myself and dissolve, again and again, explode until I am nothing more, in order to reassemble myself, to mould myself anew, to exist.