Drunk Sailor

Picture: Anna – Zoë Herr

Maybe the boat of a drunk sailor still finds home
 Leaning over but never falling 
 Salty crust in his hair and day dreaming under the moon
 A black night welcomes them–lonely as the sea
 The night just wants company but he will not give it
 He gives the lonely moments only to himself

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Fiction: A friendship

You said you wanted to spend so many more summers with me.
You wanted to see so much more.
“The world, in all its width.” You said.
With me.
You wanted to taste the salty taste of the ocean,
bathe in the sea of emotions.
You wanted to flee reality, to be everywhere,
but not with yourself. “So let’s go, now!” You wrote.
You have always been a fascination for me.
Fascinatingly beautiful and dangerous.

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Fiction: Golden Plains – Chapter II

We ran so fast that my sneakers sole was starting to come out.

A cloud of dust was beginning to rise with our rushed steps. I remember looking back one time, once we were far enough for me to have the courage to do it. The sun was almost catching the horizon, its blood red color combined with all the dust in the air made me feel I was seeing the earth burning. I could hear my brother sobbing. I wanted to stop and comfort him but I was too afraid for our lives. “Run, Miles!” – Those were the only words I was capable to pronounce at that time. We were about a half a mile away from the village when we spot a car coming towards us.

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Fiction: Golden Plains – Chapter I

I was never good with goodbyes.

I always felt a bitter taste on my mouth when I saw someone of whom I liked leaving. Not because of the fact that I would miss them, I actually was always lingering for a little bit of sorrow from time to time. No, it was because I could never express to them how much I cared. It was always too hard for me to show emotions when I was a kid. I always felt naked and vulnerable by doing it. So much I wished to be different, to don’t disappoint others, to not make them think I’m some kind of sociopath.

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Thinkpiece: Stranded Souls

“I’ve been here 10 years.”
He says as he takes a sip on his beer. “How come?” I ask smiling.
“I don’t know. I was travelling and somehow got stuck here. And now 10 years have passed.” He laughs as he looks away embarrased. You could see the toll of those 10 years by looking at him. He had aged but also remained young. His skin grew a somber tone and is now full of visible scars. Each scar has its own story. Every story with its unhealed wounds. He wanted to look younger than he was. Stronger than he ever would be. We remain silent for a moment.
My gaze also wanders across the beach. I lost myself in the depths.

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Thoughts: Back then when we had dreams

Funny how naive we were. We had dreams, goals, plans. We were so convinced of it. Do a trip around the world with the old VW bus. Only with a tent and a backpack. To be independent, to live freedom – for the day. To hitchhike when money is tight, set up a tent somewhere in nowhere. Both of us for eternity. So sure.

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Fiction: Spring of life – Chapter III

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I always disagreed with my heart. It always pulled to dark end corners of my mind, where the impossible kept me afloat from the stillness of the life surrounding me. Always so behaved creatures, so controlled and straight. Mistreating and misbehaving the truth. The world needs more than the things it had so far. Change should be the ultimate goal on our minds.

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Fiction: Spring of Life – Chapter II

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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 “Fiction: Spring of Life – Chapter II”

Fiction: Spring of life – Chapter I

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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?

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