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Life is too short for boring stories

„Does this really have to be? Just because you did not dare to say ‚100 years ago‘ for the guy, you do not have to go to a concert right now,” I murmured incessantly, even though I knew it was pointless. If Nastasja had once put something in the head, then it stayed there. Hard …

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Martinique and Christian kissed each other. You could not say otherwise. There was not one who gave the impulse and another who took it, but it was one to enter and accept from both sides, always beginning, ever ending, flowing, because no end and no beginning, no insertion and no exposure was recognized. They felt …

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Christian felt a little helpless. It had been a spontaneous decision that he caught her and took her home. Maybe not even a decision, but an instinctive approach. Only now, when she lay on his bed, did he realize what he had done. What if she woke up and said he had kidnapped her? What …

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nature also revived. Maybe it was just a coincidence, or not. It does not matter. Roles, masks, ideas of ourselves, to which we correspond or not, of which we have a notion or not, which we have given ourselves or not. But there lay a promise in the air, as is often the case, but …

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No matter how much it is, it is always too little. Even if I rewrite all the books of this world, it is always too little. No matter how deeply I penetrate, it is always too superficial. Even if I spoke all the languages of this world, I would never be able to penetrate deep …

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And it was that he took my hand in the middle of a conversation. Gentle was his touch, as by the way, as if unintentionally. It passed through me like a ray of fire and a gentle breeze. Warm and soft and full of life, this touch was so that the words, which were still …

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