She can’t breathe. Trying to gasp for air. A rope is tied around her throat. She tries to free herself. With every breath she feels the narrowness. The pulse stops when he touches her. Millions of insects crawl, crawl and spread over her body. When he slowly strokes her shoulder, each of her limbs shrugs.Continue reading “Thinkpiece: From The Fairy Tale of Fear”
++++ UPDATE ++++++
Because of some complications we unfortunately have to postpone the podcast publication to the 1st of September.
Hope you understand! For all the Email Subscribers: You will receive a separate announcement.
Shhh. To all who can’t get enough of us! Literaa Poetry will soon be in your ears. “What do you mean?” You heard right. We will start soon with our own podcast. Just as Berlin is international, our podcast will also be bilingual. Sometimes in German, sometimes in English. If the demand is there, we will translate the podcast episodes and provide subtitles, so that everyone can listen to everything. Isn’t that cool?
What do you think?
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.Continue reading “Fiction: Golden Plains – Chapter II”
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.Continue reading “Fiction: Golden Plains – Chapter I”
Die Vorfreude ist groß, denn selten war es so bunt bei uns! Heute nehmen wir euch in einen ganz tollen Space mit. Und wisst ihr was? Ihr werdet es genauso lieben wir wir, da sind wir uns sicher! Welchen Space wir zum arbeiten ausprobiert haben und warum Alice im Wunderland ständig dazwischen gefunkt hat, erfahrt ihr in diesem Artikel.
I am often asked how I live as an author, when writing becomes a profession and you have to deliver every day… Is creativity even available at one’s choice? And you know what? I can press the buttons and my creativity starts immediately to work. How? With the right routine and variety! This article tells you how this works. Continue reading “Lifestyle: Always creative – Our method”
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?
How many of my thoughts are just spilled wine? Promises of a future that became stains. They will always be there for me to remember who I was and the life I aspired. They come from a time where I used to think how much I had already accomplished. My young mind was impossible to break down, happiness was always present due to the promise of time. I looked to days to come like constellations high above in the night sky. What is there to find out? How long would it take me to get there? How small was I compared to them, how big can I grow? Continue reading “Thoughts: Spilled wine”
I’m naive. Very much. I didn’t notice that before, because I could blame it on my age. There it was still justified. Childlike carelessness. “Yes well, she’s still 17, she’s still learning that,” they said at the time. Meanwhile I’m 27 and it hasn’t got any better. Their head shaking. Always the same. And then there’s this slightly suggested smile and this: “Sweet.”
Continue reading “Thoughts: I’m naive and I’m fine with it.”
“Bei dem Wort Liebe fangen meine Augen an zu glühen.”
Ich bin naiv. Sogar sehr. Früher ist das nicht so aufgefallen, da konnte ich das noch auf mein Alter schieben. Da war es noch gerechtfertigt. Kindlicher Leichtsinn halt. „Ja gut, sie ist ja noch 17, sie lernt das schon noch“, haben sie damals gesagt. Mittlerweile bin ich 27 und es ist kein Stück besser geworden. Dieses Kopfschütteln. Immer dasselbe. Und dazu noch dieses leicht angedeutete Lächeln und dieses: „Süß.“ Continue reading “Thoughts: Ich bin naiv und das ist gut so”