Summertime

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stefanie-schneider-untitled-photographs-digital-printUntitled by Stefanie Schneider

I breathe in the salty air and it fills my lungs with a sence of calmness. Everything is fine, I can smell it. I feel the hot sand beneath my feet. I leave footsteps in the sand that will be washed away with the first wave.

Summer teaches me that everything is beautiful in its own way. Summer shows me that everything lasts for a lot less than I think. Heat and wind carry things away fastly, not allowing a memory to settle. Summer teaches me that it´s fine that way. Making peace with that opens a whole new world for me- wide, open and painfully colourful.

Each moment is like a grain of sand. Yes, it is hard to keep and it will slip through my fingers. But summer teaches me to see the beauty in it. Summer teaches me to leave the sand to the summer wind, because it knows the best. The only thing I need to do is to look ahead with a bit of sand. Light as sand. Wise as summer.

Couples

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CouplesParis Couple (Quai du Louvre) by Frank Horvat

People and their relationships…admirable and silly, laughable and sad, tiresome and inspiring. As many times as I’ve seen this kiss when couples meet, I’ve seen them walking away from each other. I admired them every time, because it takes strength to do that, strength known only to humans, strength I know nothing about.

I could say that I envied their euphory and that I’ve felt sorry for them when euphory faded away. Most of the times euphory fades away and couples know it. But that doesn’t stop them to look for that wonderful overwhelming feeling again or to revive it.

When it comes to love, people are faithful Sisyphuses that roll that rock up the hill till the end of time. I admire them and I wish I could feel what they feel, it must be something magical. They love till the last breath. They love endlessly, until the end of love. When the love ends, they will never love again. Until the next time.

Words

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wordsLife (2012) by Yang Peng

You can’t see them, but they are everywhere around us. Their hands guide us and we’ve been misled. Their ways are one-way streets that lead to the same place. We are going nowhere. We are staying put.

Their words feed us and we are hungry. We are chewing their words over and over, trying to find taste and the truth at the bottom of the words. But there is no taste and there is no truth in their words. We are chewing them anyway, because it is the only way to speak. We borrow the words and return them right away, like we’ve borrowed a book with empty pages, without any words or meanings to read.

The book should be written, but it needs different words. My words, your words. Words that come from the inside. Words of the truth that have a meaning. Words with the voice of our own that can’t be silent forever.

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