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Life is too short for boring stories

Life is presence. If life is alive, it is in the acceptance of the moment, the moment that presents itself, with all its comforts, with all its inconveniences. Is being accepted, acceptable or uncomfortable? Seen in this way, there is no such thing as unpleasant, unless we negate the only time that is given to …

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Nobody was there and she was alone, but the stories lived in her as soon as she understood them. It was also the time when she swore that if she had children herself, she would read to them. It came true many years later. They lay in her arms and listened. In the beginning it …

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You can find them everywhere. Countless padlocks. On bridges. Especially. You can see them all the way to a barrier at the Cliffs of Moher. Some are empty. Others labeled. Name, a date. Sometimes a message. How romantic. I want to think. A seal of our love. One forever. You lock up and throw away …

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I sat on my footbridge. As always, I sat on my jetty when you came. I was sunk in a confused thought-box, so much so that I did not hear you coming, at first. Only when you were quietly behind me and put your hands on my shoulders, I was startled. My Love, the one …

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