Clublokaal
Clublokaal
Clublokaal

OPEN DOOR: Writing Lab

Truth is a River by Birds Without Gender 
21-11-2025

What happens when we stop searching for one single truth? Which truths live between us? And can we learn to live with many truths at once?

Together with writer, healer and artist Birds Without Gender (they/them) we explored the diversity, complexity and incompleteness of truth during this OPEN DOOR Writing Lab, uncovering truth (as a story, as trauma, as hope, as pleasure, as a river…). 

You can read extracts of texts written during the workshop by Birds and other participants on this page. 

 

About Birds Without Gender

Birds WG (they/them) is a writer, performance artist, and healer based in Rotterdam. 

Their work focuses on the complexity of the human condition. 

They believe in diversity and dialogue as methodologies for conflict resolution and peace. 

They believe that words and images are indisputable healing forces. 

They write personal fiction, poetry, and text for performance. 

They do writing improvisations during group writing sessions and during live music jams and they fucking love doing that.

 

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)

Clublokaal
Clublokaal

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)

Clublokaal

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)

Clublokaal

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)

About OPEN DOOR 

Open Door workshops invite new audiences into Clublokaal and rethink what accessibility and artistic experience can mean. How can we open our space to others in meaningful ways? How can we expand our idea of who gets to make art?

Through a series of participatory sessions, we explore these questions by focusing on making together. We deliberately erase distinctions between "artistic making" (such as painting or sculpting) and "craft" (like embroidery, cooking, or gardening). These sessions are about skill-sharing, collective experience, and the joy of creating side by side.

Clublokaal is supported by Gemeente Breda, Province of Noord-Brabant and Stichting KLEIO

Clublokaal

OPEN DOOR: Writing Lab

Truth is a River by Birds Without Gender 
21-11-2025

What happens when we stop searching for one single truth? Which truths live between us? And can we learn to live with many truths at once?

Together with writer, healer and artist Birds Without Gender (they/them) we explored the diversity, complexity and incompleteness of truth during this OPEN DOOR Writing Lab, uncovering truth (as a story, as trauma, as hope, as pleasure, as a river…). 

You can read extracts of texts written during the workshop by Birds and other participants on this page. 

 

About Birds Without Gender

Birds WG (they/them) is a writer, performance artist, and healer based in Rotterdam. 

Their work focuses on the complexity of the human condition. 

They believe in diversity and dialogue as methodologies for conflict resolution and peace. 

They believe that words and images are indisputable healing forces. 

They write personal fiction, poetry, and text for performance. 

They do writing improvisations during group writing sessions and during live music jams and they fucking love doing that.

 

Clublokaal

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)

Clublokaal

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)

Clublokaal

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)

Clublokaal

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)

Clublokaal

About OPEN DOOR 

Open Door workshops invite new audiences into Clublokaal and rethink what accessibility and artistic experience can mean. How can we open our space to others in meaningful ways? How can we expand our idea of who gets to make art?

Through a series of participatory sessions, we explore these questions by focusing on making together. We deliberately erase distinctions between "artistic making" (such as painting or sculpting) and "craft" (like embroidery, cooking, or gardening). These sessions are about skill-sharing, collective experience, and the joy of creating side by side.

Clublokaal is supported by Gemeente Breda, Province of Noord-Brabant and Stichting KLEIO