to describe the beauty is probably so difficult because it is the linguistic expression tries to escape again and again. Add to that the fear of destroying it, by putting it pressed into inadequate words, it is a frame, it establishes and in a presentable outfit on the trip sent to test the dialog.
Maybe I write so little, because the images give the unspeakable more space, today and tomorrow mean something else. Perhaps because of the ambivalence, Brig is in everything so hard to express, beyond the one hand, on the other hand, formulations, and because the synchronicity of the events require a write mode, for which it (still) is no grammar.
In the struggle for the right words for my happiness, my passion, fear and sadness and all the other thread-tag, which is far too massive to describe the slight tendon that sets in every now and then, if I look out the window at the darkening sky, the rain-slicked road and hurried people I meet that which is not beyond me and there is still only a hereafter of me.
wanted What I tell you, I can
"my husband" do not call "my man".
My BA thesis was rated 1.0.
I lost my best friend to have one without the ever thought possible and is understood to mean that one can not not act.
It is something that I mourn every day because I keep all my helplessness before our eyes.
I am very much in love.
And I hope so.
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