-
Another face of freedom – Sitting with myself in silence.
So much happens, I barely have the time to digest it. Think about it or write about it. Thousands of photos are piling up in my phone. And in my note book I place phrases and words, hoping they’ll make me remember all these thoughts later on. But now that I sit in someone else…
-
How would you describe freedom to someone who doesn’t know?
My body is tired my mind wide awake. I push my bike out of the trees on to the top of the hill. Bright light and a sea of fog beneath me, the sun didn’t rise yet. I lean my bike against the bench I had spend yesterday-afternoon on and brush my hair to braid…
-
Chasing the Sun: A Journey Up the Mountains
In the myst of a late morning I leave Eva’s Home. The fire had been already burning in the stove when I got down into her kitchen, the smell of coffee unfolding in the air. Our conversations are still echoing in my head as I push my bike back up the steep hill into the…
-
The spell is broken.
Where have you been today, one year ago? From time to time, I like to go through the photos on my phone, pick the exact day one year ago just to see how far I have come since. There are phases. Phases where there are mostly screenshots of ideas or sentences, concepts that resonated with…
-
Is it a business or a hobby?
Why am I writing, to who, what about and what for? That’s where I am at, again. Wondering which word will make it out of my head into these letters and which ones I better keep for myself. Who is going to read it anyways? Looks like you are. But who are you? Do I…
-
Too late?
“I wish I knew, when I was 21!” I know it now and I see how much struggle and pain I could have spared myself if I could have only known a little earlier. “If I could have only known since the beginning.” And then I have a conversation with someone twice or three times…
-
One last love letter.
Before I let go for good, before I’ll watch you drive away with someone else, I just wanted to dedicate a few words to all these corners I had built with my own hands, the corners that felt like home in another life. This house-truck sums up all the details I have come to notice…
-
Where is “Home”?
Certainly I am not the first nor the last one to asks this question. And in the end we all have to answer it for ourselves. Where is your “Home”? And what is it? A place, a feeling, is it where you grew up, did you build it yourself, does it move or is it…
-
Struck by lightning, almost.
Inner seconds I am drenched wet, barely I had the time to put the phone in my pocket. Thunder and lightning. “Hopefully they wont pass right where I am, how was it again you calculate how far the lightning is from where you stand?” Needless to remember as the lightning goes down right in front…
-
Freedom lays behind fear.
Where do you place your fears? Are they motivating or hindering your choices? There are a few reasons why I embarked on that new adventure, cycling by myself to I don’t know where exactly. A few destinations in my head, but really I am doing this not for a destination but for my fears. One…
kesityu. 