Spring of Life – Part II


Procrastination: Being trapped in a dream world that prevents us from living our dreams on the real one. My life so far was a steady monochord rhythm, two chords repeating day and night. I always thinking how the song would continue. As I turned my face to look at her on that spring afternoon, I heard the strings breaking.
No more music. No more nothing. My body went completely numb.  Continue reading “Spring of Life – Part II”

Spring of life – Part I


I traded seagulls for ravens. On my backpack I had three days worth of clothes, and a toothbrush. On my heart I had a lifetime worth of dreams. I waited too long for this, and I wonder why… I don’t want to think that I was too long trapped in my fears, in my anxiety, such a cliché, right? I mean, being so aware of the cockroaches on my head I should have known better, shouldn’t I?

Continue reading “Spring of life – Part I”

The Big Drop


There I was. Hoping and hopping. Eager to get something I don’t want. Apply. Put on your mask and smile. Study your cliché list, memorize it, some jokes maybe? No, too much. Who has time to laugh? Put your head down and let them absorb you. Feel the anxiety mixed with a monochord vomiting of words. Don’t fall asleep, soldier!
Your mamma is counting on you. You are getting to old to eat at her table. Aren’t you tired of being left out?

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The Voyager II


I’ve been floating for years only with the sound of my own voice. It shouts inside my head like in a long hall: “Is there anybody out there?” – The sound travels afar and it fades. Where am I? The smells, the faces, they are gone. My memory leaked into space, year by year, leaving an invisible trace. The route back is lost. Continue reading “The Voyager II”

From the fairy tale of fear


She can’t breathe. Crawling to get some air. A rope is wrapped around her throat. She’s trying to break from it. With every breath she feels the narrowness. The pulse stops as the rope tightens. Millions of insects crawling and spreading all over her body. As he slowly strokes her shoulder, each of her limbs shrugs.

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The Black Widow


“She played for the sake of pleasure and suffering”

She knew she had them by the hand. She knew how to hold the reins, how to play the right move. She always could. She had spun the spider’s web more and more, had always kept her prey close to her, until she was paralyzed, until nobody could move anymore.  That’s how she did it with Marco. But Marco was only one of many.

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End Station


She liked the smell of the rain especially the old upholstered seats. She also didn’t mind that the patterned leather smelled of bad food and alcohol. Meanwhile she didn’t notice the smell anymore. She liked the shaking and the feeling just before leaving. When the train arrived, she felt as if she was being carried.

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Tonight I can’t see my mother. Her tears fall on the ground. Knee deep mud on the road. I wish I could tell her to stop. Her pain only makes the walk harder. Her dim light shows me the way in front of me. But not today. I walk blind through this unknown road, paved to prevent me to reach far. The drops slap my face and scream me to fail. I can’t. Continue reading “Moonchild”

Those lost at sea


The waters are now still. Last night’s storm has left hundreds of lost souls floating around for miles. Some are looking up into the sun, like they are desperately asking him to bring life back to their cold pale bodies. A hundred ships sail in between. They despise every one of the drowned, fearing the mermaid’s song. It could be us, they think.

Continue reading “Those lost at sea”