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Life is too short for boring stories

Prepare to you a place to return to when life has drained you, then you will find a pillow to bed yourself down and a blanket to warm you, then you will find peace and quiet and space to breathe. Prepare myself to you as the place to which you can return when the superficial …

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When was the last time you let the wind blow through your hair and nose?When was the last time you walked barefoot across a soft forest floor?When was the last time you touched the gnarled trunk of an old oak tree, gazed into its crown and let yourself be amazed by its majestic shape?When was …

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… to walk through the forest, with you to breathe in the fresh, clear winter air and let this very special atmosphere work. It is nothing more than a cluster of trees. Nothing happens there. That’s boring. It is so terribly unhectic and unspectacular. But for those who can breathe and smell and feel it, …

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At the moment, I can identify two tendencies in the area of ​​family policy: the increased deportation of children into their own spheres of life and the urge for parents to return to work as quickly as possible. The question is: Does this contribute to the well-being of those affected?

I got to know you, as it is. We were introduced to each other, shaking hands and muttering something like, „Pleasure“ or „Nice to meet you“. What we have just learned to say so in such a situation. And it was said so, and a bit not. I looked into your eyes when your name …

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Inspired by Kieran Halpin „Mission Bell from the CD „Doll“ I struggled with the fate, the facts, the circumstances and with me anyway. Of all the people I know, I am probably the one I often do not like. Then I’d like to go to the devil or somewhere else, but it’s no good. „I …

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Inspired by Kieran Halpin „Fragile Heart“ from the CD „Doll“ it was because I wanted you to stay with you. „Can I paint you a picture of what is happiness?“ I asked you, and you wanted to hear it, because it would not matter whether you were going now or later. It would no longer …

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17/03/2017

Sequel to „Farewell to civilization“

I am standing in the valley, on the little hill where our campsite is. A small piece of security, amidst the size of the mountains and the unpredictability. A little home that we had created for a few days with the simplest means. The campsite, the spot where we cooked, the camp fire, to tell stories, from a world that seems to be as far away as if it were on the moon. Or even those from this world. A piece of home but also surrounded by high mountains, forest and expanse. With a few hands it has disappeared. Nothing will remember us. Perhaps the place where the grass is a little burnt down in the heat of the fire. Perhaps the pieces of wood which we provisionally once used for seating and another as support. Using simplest means, challenging creativity so that the indeterminacy of the surrounding things becomes a determinateness. Familiarity. A little bit, which stopped during the last days.

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was suddenly everything quite different, because everything remained the same. Just that I was aware of something that was intuitively so far. I even spoke it out. It was like an underline of the existing.

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