From the bridge that I am crossing I look forwards not realizing that I look back
Day 2516, a slow turn.
Daily picture, Poetrypoem
Day 2514, wanderer.
Daily picture, Quotes
Friedrich Nietzsche
Beyond good and evil
What is noble?
278 – Wanderer, who are you? I watch you go on your way, without scorn, without love, with impenetrable eyes – damp and downhearted, like a plumb line that returns unsatisfied from every depth back into the light (what was it looking for down there?), with a breast that does not sigh, with lips that hide their disgust,with a hand that only grips slowly:who are you? What have you done? Take a rest here, this spot is hospitable to everyone, – relax! And whoever you may be: what would you like now? What do you find relaxing? Just name it: I’ll give you whatever I have! – “Relaxing? Relaxing? How inquisitive you are! What are you saying! But please, give me – –” What? What? Just say it! – “Another mask! A second mask!” …
Day 2513, for a.
Daily picture, Poetry
If you are lucky you might stand still and look at the world for a long time after your summer
Day 2512 each part.
Daily picture, Poetry
Each part of you tells me how you feel except your mind
Day 2509, art?
Daily picture, Poetry
Art is nothing without our joy and interpretation it is just paint on a canvas or a shape in a form
Day 2508, adventure.
Daily picture, Poetry
At night in my dream I glow underwater feeling the world an adventure but all along the morning holds me tight waking me up in a sudden pull I only remember the goodbye
Day 2493, mystery.
Daily picture, Poetry
I stand here carrying what never will be mine you you who I never know you give me power but not for me you don’t even know and not because it disappears in the darkness
Day 2492, the snow was.
Daily picture, Poetry
The snow was falling in front of a dark background the contrast pronounced the snow was melting on my skin now looking up I enjoyed it even more like you do in those few first seconds the snow came down alone but together they fell landing on a dark soil were only the first
Day 2491, this house.
Daily picture, Poetry
This house was empty empty for a long time the outside leaked through the cracks the doors never used stuck only the dark attic gave me alone to be with myself
Day 2486, just enough.
Daily picture, Poetry
Through the early winter into the long night I survived by the grace of the place I ended hanging by a thread in just enough light for my dying conscious rotten corps the coming spring will never let me bloom again but that is just a fact
Day 2412, cities.
Daily picture, Poetry
The miracle of a lonely street in a busy city
Day 2406, movement.
Drawings from the bottom of the drawer., Poetry
From day today I swing back and forth myself and movement hand in hand the wind in our hair distracts so pleasant but still we don’t know from what Drawing 1998
Day 2392, frozen.
Daily picture, Poetry
My frozen face gets stuck in your mind when you see this picture thinking about what you see you forget that this picture was taken in the blink of an eye maybe it was the start of a smile or the end of it think about your judgments they are also taken in the blink of an eye you never know what the second before could have brought
Day 2388, cutout.
Daily picture, Poetry
The window I sit behind white wall a door I open twice a day one dark window is still I sleep a house in black and white to cutout
Day 2385, eight billion.
Daily picture, Poetry
Have you ever stood still while having the thought that there are eight billion people on this earth with eight billion ways of looking at the same world as you do and live in? Eight billion ways to process all of this information and at least eight billion ways of believing what is processed. Eight billion people that, by design, have to experience themselves as the center of their world. Eight billion people conversating with themselves and finding words to decipher their beliefs. Eight billion people who believe that they are alone in the world but still cling to the hope that there is another that will understand...them. Eight billion people that close their eyes every night, helpless like we all are in our sleep. Eight billion people who are only equal in their silence.
Day 2341, strange.
Daily picture, Poetry
A green door on number four with three locks three door bells four nameplates and one mailbox
Nochrisis 