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Life is too short for boring stories

Of all the nights that I woke up and went back to sleep, there were very, very few in which I was truly lonely. Not just alone, but lonely, like an outcast who no longer even finds a connection point to a you in my mind, whose isolation consists not only of a physical, but …

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The bus driver calls me the price. I start to search my pockets. Behind me there is a clear murmur of the ones who want to enter to be heard, as a hand stretched from back to front and we strum a few coins. „I’ll pay for the young man,“ says one, obviously on hand, …

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A flower on the edge of the path. A small inconspicuous flower someone had picked because he liked it. Then he had taken her for a while. It had become too much for him, probably because she lost her strength and beauty. He had finally separated her from her roots. She stopped pleasing him. What’s …

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It was as if life had dissolved, lost all reliability. Yesterday, everything had been very different. Yesterday. And today. Laughing and joking in the connectedness and in the coexistence. It had been. Then I left. Only a few hours. It was already morning, so not really yesterday, but today. So, it did not happen from …

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A car had driven up. It was unusual, because hardly anyone got lost here. There were always more and more who said goodbye to the hustle and bustle and wanted to go to the seclusion. It had its own charisma, the Waldviertel, with its vastness and abandonment. Of course, there were cities, but also many …

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