Konstantin the stinker.

Where did this flightiness come from, and why did it settle into such a sensitive, heart-straining trade? 

Flightiness should have known better — it's forever keeping company with uncertainty and the loose life. 

Flighty types are unreliable, and bored quickly on top of that. 

Which of the exes once sworn into the service of being-in-love are still there after two years? 
After twenty of the same? 
Quite. 

Flightiness can be bad for your health, because the organs of almost any body frame need to be able to rely on the organ next door. And not be left by it. 

For this whole troop of pumping, filtering, guarding, life-preserving residents of the body has one main task: never take a break. Never refuse service. Never be distracted. And never be damaged. 

The loudest voice is still the liver, because all sorts of things pass through it now and then — things rarely named, yet they put the owner in a sour mood.

So, folks — which fool let Flightiness into the game? 
Well? 

Oh, an ex of Flightiness did? And what's the fellow's name? Constantine? 
Constantine the Constant? 
Yeah, that guy is annoying and dull. 

Forever devoting himself to iron rules, forever trying to look reliable. 

What a stinker. 

Where is the fun of surprise if the rules dictate every second of the clock? 

How would the creative even survive, if the creative one held themselves strictly to the rules? 
Standard results. 

The imaginative wants to draw from the full cupboard of the unforeseen, of the never-yet-been. 

And creatives want to — have to — be able to flutter. 
Otherwise no butterfly will ever come of it.

Constantine says: “And what if everybody did that.”

Well, cheers — how wonderful would that be, if the creative element spread itself across every region. 

Imagine flightiness as a permanent fixture. 
Nobody would know whether the colleagues will make the meeting on time, whether they have finished their tasks, or whether they even still remember what Project XYZ is about. 

It would be like traffic in Milan or Paris. 

Everyone does what they want, but everyone is also extremely alert to what everyone else is about to do. 

Flightiness wakes you up. 

The fluttering creates new paths, widened inspiration.

The normal, the routine — those two are the killers of every future development that might make life better. 

“That’s how it’s always been” is their rallying cry. 

Don’t change a thing. 

Making changes is…hmm… ah yes: flighty. 

Right, enough mischief for now. I’m going to take flight. Here and now.