Wessen Leben ich gerade lebe, weiß ich nicht. Sollte es aber meins sein, so bin ich enttäuscht. Enttäuscht, weil ich es eigentlich im Griff haben sollte und dennoch eine so große Diskrepanz besteht zwischen dem was ich will, und dem was ist. Wie kann es nur so weit gekommen sein? Die Entmachtung meiner Selbst hat […]Read more "Ausbruch"
The ceiling seems to oppress me. The walls are closing in on me. I loosen my tie and it is still hard to breathe. I tremble as I put my right hand into my pocket, take out the neatly folded handkerchief with my grandfather’s monogram on it and wipe my forehead with it. Schubert is playing […]Read more "Noise"
Down by the river, I looked into a mirror. Down by the river, I saw my own face. Distorted by the moonshine, I saw my own face, saw it break. Lights of the city reflecting in the water. Sirens howling, places to be. Down by the river, reaction time is shorter, Soul searching to do, […]Read more "Down by the river"
I guess I’ve got it figured out. I guessed that yesterday and I was proven wrong. I’ll guess it again tomorrow. Every time I do, I am sure. A rock. Alone against the crushing waves. Blue. Grey. A color scheme as poor as my experience. The wind, it talks to me. I can’t quite make […]Read more "The extrinsic element to the value of being"
How often do we feel the need to hide, to blend out all that is unwanted, the harsh, the crude, yet painfully real? Finding refuge is a necessity, it seems. Thus, we wander off into distant lands, where our ideals meet past experiences, our deficiencies become abundances, our weaknesses become talents and all that usually […]Read more "Finding refuge in reality"
Overcoming uncertainty, or rather: accepting it. When a whole life is spent making plans and thinking of the future, the present suffers greatly. That present which is the only thing that is ever certain, the only thing that even gives us the chance to create impact for the future in a way that making plans […]Read more "Overcoming uncertainty"
The water keeps dripping incessantly. Drop by drop it hollows out the stone. Once cold and brute, it is now cold and smooth, bent to the point of having no will of its own. It was never enough, it never could be. Too this, too that, not enough of this, but always below standard. Only […]Read more "When “not enough” becomes too much"