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Life is too short for boring stories

Bold, daring and extreme, some said, those who didn’t understand it better. Empathic, connected and passionate, said the others, those who understood better understood you. Actually, you can’t blame anyone who didn’t understand it. They were the people who wrapped themselves in perfume clouds instead of lying on the grass and looking at the sky, …

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Reply to an open letter from a self-confessed carnivore to the hypocritical vegans Dear Mr. Carnivore! Thank you for your very illuminating letter. It fertilizes the intercultural discourse between carnivores and vegans, knowing how the other person thinks and above all how he argues. Furthermore, it is clear that there is still a great deal …

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Josef and Mary had gone to the next village to go shopping. Trifles. What you need. In the seclusion. I did not ride because I still enjoyed seeing no one else except the two and the dogs. Stay forever, it was tempting. But the relationship is lost, the true world, the time and their division. …

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„An exciting question,“ said Christian, when they finally found a cozy restaurant, „One would think that it is accessible to everyone.“ „Let me guess, it’s not like that, and it’s about money again,“ Martinique inquired. „Yes, what else should it be about, and a lot of money,“ Christian countered succinctly. „It is therefore all the …

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„Come on, let’s decorate the Christmas tree,“ Maria Uwe demanded. Full of unrest and anticipation she had sat next to him, drinking the afternoon tea faster than usual, with less thought and more haste. Now she sat there, burning, that he would finally have taken the last sip to finally say these words „Come on, …

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As soon as longer heat periods announce the spring it starts. I notice that spring is coming, not by the weather, but by the splendid reception, which I am getting ready from now on many mornings. „Because,“ Reinhard May sings in a variation of the well-known song, „some depp mows somewhere always.“ Not that I …

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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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