Somehow, I know, there are a lot of lies. And it used to scream, yell with urgency into my ears.
But as I grow older, it just grows more and more silent. Now and then a whisper, almost faded away, drifts by my ears. I stopped listening to the words. But it is not resignation, more a sort of convenient move.

R.M. Parkner, Garden City

Without..

Would there just be the unbearable, terrible silence of noise in the world, without the music?
Isn´t the noise we surround ourselves with willingly, in the end nothing but a try of escape for up to a few minutes. repeat, again, again and again? What is leading this everforward push for escapism? Are we cowards before our own hearts?
I can only remember the slight echo of what was music in the Garden. It is gone, it has left me behind, struggling, as I woke. It is I who left it behind. I only know, it must have been the sweetest sound that ever drifted to my ears, but also, I am not quite certain anymore.



Robert Mel Parkner, The Garden And Why I Came Back

in the letter from s.

Im Deutschen sagt man ja so sprichwoertlich: "Da gibts nichts zu lachen!", aber mir hat das nie geholfen mit dem Lachen aufzuhoeren und mit dem Weinen anzufangen und ich wuerd mich gerne mal aussprechen mit den grossen Sprichwortautoren und denen was an die Loeffel geben fuer so neunmalkluges Zeug.
s.

in a letter from s.

"Where he goes after that is not important. For we must remember that all this took place thirty years ago, back in the days of our earliest childhood. Anything is possible, therefore.
I myself prefer to think that he went far away, boarding a train that morning and going out west to start a new life. It is even possible that AMERICA was not the end of it. In my secret dreams, I like to think of Blue booking passage on some ship and sailing to China. Let it be China, then, and we´ll leave it at that. For now is the moment that Blue stands up from his chair, puts on his hat, and walks through the door. And from this moment on, we know nothing.

thief turned out to be a wild boar

A young wild boar had entered a family-home through an open door, wandering through the bathroom and other rooms till coming to a halt in the office, where it went on a rampage , destroying things worth about two thousand euro. when found by the alerted family, the boar was sitting on the desk, on top of a notebook, gazing dreamily out the window.

TICKEN

Auf Kampnagel, 24.3.1o-28.3.10

the picture-reel stopped working