Telling stories

This category contains 7 posts

Blind folded, stone hearted dancers

Depression is a demon and an angel twingled in the most spine chiling dance you’ve ever seen. Continue reading

“Why can’t there be a beige swan, a brown swan, a black swan, out there?”

I feel it will be hard to get to a full stop this morning. Yet I’d promised myself I would write, every week. No matter if I felt I could, no matter if I felt I wanted to, no matter if I felt scattered, no matter if I had no coherence – as I seem not to have now. It is all because I LOVE writing. It has become a form of therapy for me. It made me find out how fascinating words and meanings are. It has become my voice. It has remained a constant in my life, even when – or especially when – it was silenced. Continue reading


An interpretaion of Argentinean love

The voice cannot possibly betray. It’s linked to the soul. (…) So the singer remains true to this feeling, and his voice carries us there… Soft and deep, melancholy and painfully sober. Continue reading

On the other side of acceptance

Accepting life and accepting yourself in sober entirety. Accepting a reality that is painful, very painful. Hardly ever seen. Merely understood. Yet so vibrant, so potent, so no BS.

You see, there is the other side of every situation in life. Each moment of excitement holds in it the risk of free falling. Each moment of despair then, hold in it your chance of being redeemed. Continue reading

Life After Facebook (Or A Military Withdrawal)

5 days after having deactivated my Facebook account, days feel 5 times longer. Thoughts gain weight. Stuff that matters gets done. A sense of quietness fills the days up. […]

Love this trial. No fuss, no riot. No hanging on the noise. No WASTED time. Tons of wasted time… No scattered emotions, disturbed and disturbing ado. Facebook, you’re so not missed. Continue reading

Beautiful nervousness

The random thoughts of a random morning. Or maybe it is all, but random. Our eyes perceive only 8% of the spectrum of light, we only use 15% of our brain and 60,000 thoughts run through our head every single day. So he seems to come back into her life, over and over, only to … Continue reading

Cast away, she’d been

Something about that evening told her the world was simply at her fingertips. She could not believe it yet. How can you be so sure of something you’re so not sure of? She was. Totally sure of it. And totally unsure. It’s been months and months and months since all she wanted was to be … Continue reading

Feel some loving. See when I write something new.