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#584
Sag, zu wem willst du beten?
Zu wem willst du gehen?
Wenn die ganzen Geföhnten
So weit rechts von hier stehen
Und zu wem willst du aufschauen
Wenn da oben nix is‘
Absolutely nothing
Unimpresses me like this
Martin Bechler
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#560
Listening, at 6:04 a.m.
I could have missed it. The faint humming of a bike. Behind me, on the street. While I was waiting for the tram. Someone was riding a bicycle. From left to right. From some place to some place. I didn't know why. I just knew that. And suddenly I felt connected. Undetected. The two of us. A person I don't know anything about. Only that they were riding a bike. At the same time, at the same place where I was. In the dark and early hours of this vast city. What if I had missed this? If I hadn't listened?
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#546
See Mum, see Dad, I've become autonomous. You changed my diaper, fed me, taught me. But now I am grown. I don't need you anymore. I am free. - And because I am free, I can choose to carry you always with me. What we have experienced. The travelling. The laughing. The crying. Everything is on my mind. In my heart. And I know, it always will.
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#544
„Ich bin kein Läufer, ich bin ein Wanderer, und wenn die Füße weh tun, nehm ich halt den Zug.“
- Anna Mabo
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#543
What is left when I don’t post anymore?
Not on LinkedIn, not in blogs,
not on Instagram, not on Bluesky.
When I stop telling the world
that I exist—
alive, performing,
bragging in pictures, words, arguments.
What is left when it is only me?
Myself,
and the life that presses close—
every minute, every second.
A life without likes,
without shares, without reach.
Yet a life I can touch,
that touches me now:
on this old train along the coast,
window open,
the sun on my skin,
the wind in my hair—
grey now,
but still,
still.
Can I bear such a life?
With all its cracks
no longer hidden.
With all its vibrant silence.
A life fragile in its worth,
priceless in its seeming worthlessness.
I want to dare it.
I do.
