15/10/2026
Hier fehlt die Form. Und doch war es mir wichtig. Warum weiß ich gerade nicht. Impulse denen ich gefolgt bin um später eine Antwort darauf zu haben.
I used to think I could trust my feelings, follow them without fear, and they would lead me along the right path.
And I followed them, until I came to a beach full of stones.
They were round and beautiful. They seemed to call out to me. Awakened my curiosity. Made me pause and look down.
And so I began turning each one over, to discover what lay beneath.
And years and years went by.
And beneath them, the same story kept speaking to me.
The same faces looked out from underneath.
Looked up at me.
And I forgot the time.
I forgot my destination.
So fascinated by the worlds that played out beneath the stones.
Sometimes, when I walk along rivers today, I still collect them.
The flat ones, the round ones, the warm ones, the smooth ones.
Never the angular ones. Never the rough ones.
I slip them into my pockets and then forget about them at home, where they lie in boxes for years.
Until one day, I take them out again.
I could return them.
Back to their riverbed.
Bring them home.
But even when all the boxes have been emptied, all the rooms swept clean, and everything given away:
These, I want to keep.
So maybe the truth is, I still trust them.
