[Pantha Rei] Year 2019

One book almost finished. The next one ready. Just what to fill the pages with?

She: Which way to go? He: Does it really make a difference?

She: What are those things? He: I don't know. She: What do you need them for? He: I cannot remember.

In front of his neighbour's house parked a hearse. How do they say? The old man went home ? No, he thought, he has been home all along, but he went back to where he came from.

Gregory's mood did not improve when he learned that not even the birds wanted to hear his story.

We tend to overestimate the recognition of our own lives. Take a step back and you probably won't understand what you are doing. If you do, though, you will struggle to find any excuses.

One unifying element of all religions is the assignment of certain positive qualities to fire. Sit in a dark room for a few minutes and then light a candle and you will understand why.

'tis the time of the year.

Do the Elements have a face?

And while she stood freezing at the bus stop she wondered when humans had given up growing a winter coat. And why.

We sleep in the same bed and yet have completely different dreams.

We cling to a tradition from the East, even if most of us do not believe in large parts of its mythology anymore. And those who show the least believe in it are the ones who most eagerly try to defend this tradition against a newer mythology, which...

Oscar understood all of a sudden where his problems with the other people came from; his heart beat the other way around.

For the living it is very easy to feign death, the other way around it is a lot harder.

Humans are so frightful that they have to build borders all the time. This is mine and that is yours, or better: this is mine and I will not share it. Every century there seems to be a period where people overcome these primitive sentiments for a...

Robert had bought a highlighter that had been on offer. When he came home he realized that he had nothing to highlight. He decided to write down in his diary how cheap the highlighter had been and then used the highlighter on that line.

Rebecca decided that she would sell the horse right the next day when she realized that it not only had longer, but also thicker eye-lashes than herself.

When Simon cleared out his late aunt's attic he suddenly became aware that through all these years of grumpy misery and nasty habits she had been the keeper of the Holy Grail.

Today I met an angel in training. The wings were still provisionally, but clearly visible.

The German word for cock, 'Hahn', etymologically descends from the word for Singer. In that respect Boris Johnson might be a singer, too.

We receive whole sentences and yet we always only hear single words.

Sometimes it helps to state the obvious.

When Helen came home that night she understood that the sad little stuffed bear on the shelf was the only friend she had left in the world.

The distance between the moon and life is 400000 km.

On the 23rd September, 1987 John Myers from Portland, Oregon, decided that from that day on he would stare at another part of the wall in front of him.

As a boy he had always dreamed of running off on a boat one day, as deckhand or steward. Today he knew that one can be of lesser importance without leaving one's home port.

After making her bed, she wondered how it really would be to walk the valleys of Mars.

Let me tell you a story about a story in a story.

All things are at once, no matter if we see them or not. Nothing lies to us as much as our attention, it randomly gives weight to information, removes it or ignores it. We claim to struggle with the idea that time might not be linear, and we do, no...

On his way home he found a rose that someone seemingly had lost in the streets and he understood that he was not the only one for whom love had died that night.

At a few occasions every year it is socially acceptable to live out one's desire for the existence of a world next to the physical one. It is not only tolerated, but actually encouraged to try to summon various spirits. Magical thinking is part of...

On his walks through the fields Robert had an epiphany. That everything moves in circles is not only an assumption or a conclusion, no, it is an observable fact.

When Reuben tried to make a portrait of himself, he had to learn that one cannot get hold of the self, since its edges are blurry and the whole is rather fuzzily defined.

When Jennifer found a maccherone in her box of tissues she was intrigued if that was the result of some weird mishap in the pasta factory or if someone was trying to send her a message. If that was the case what would be that message?

The paint thief left his fingerprints in the most clumsy way possible.

She woke up with a start not quite recalling what she had been dreaming about, but her body felt feeverish, and then she saw it again, this eye that she had been running away from in that latest nightmare.

Any symbol has as many meanings as it has observers. That is what she thought at first, but then she got frightened that it might be a curse of some kind after all. Just because she had never experienced magic did not mean that it does not exist.

When Debora bought a new colour camera to replace her old black and white one, she had to learn that certain things stay as monochromatic as ever, no matter how new the technology.

He: I wonder; what are spiders doing in their spare time? She: Well, I guess they are hanging around somewhere.

Every time Harold passes by he wonders what is being held back by those bars.

She: That poor person living in there... He: It could be worse, the roof could be on fire.

Why do living things grow?

On that day Alexander learned that -against common believe- seagulls do not fall for just every story you tell them.

He: He looks like he is in great pain. She: Wouldn't you be, if you were in his shoes?

All of this because of a shepherd's daughter.

Mr Thomson found a small pot for home-growing tomatoes on his windowsill that he had left there six months ago. He was very disappointed that now even a weed would grow there.

She: Do you think that trees are afraid of death as well? He: No, I think because they are dying a little every year they have a much better idea of what to expect. She: Maybe that is why they still look so dignified in autumn and winter.

The word 'grab' means 'grave' in German.

He: Sometimes one wonders what things are supposed to represent. She: Probably nothing. He: So you mean that certain things have no meaning? She: No, I mean that nothing has a meaning. We just tend to give it to some things.

That day he learned that in this part of the world people wore black as a sign of mourning. He had been dressed black for most of his life.

With his hands in the pockets of his old coat he walked down the, now deserted, main street. All of a sudden he was reminded that the world can become very small and limited if one has only one source of light.

Since his early childhood Robert considered it a good practice to keep all his loose screws in a box in the basement.

He had thought for hours about where to go until he realised that there is only one direction; into the future.

She: What do you see? He: A glass half empty. Or half full, of course. She: I think the glass is full. Filled with 50% water and 50% nothing.

Our first associations are most of the time wrong.

That very moment he understood that the old shaman was right when he had told him that it is the birds that break the clouds.

He held a hand in front of his face to protect the eyes from the sudden brightness. He was not sure if the other person was friend or foe, but anyone was welcome now. Anyone or anything was better than this everlasting darkness. 'Hello' he said and...

His fingers were void of blood and it felt as if circulation had stopped altogether. The only sound he could hear was that of wet leaves under his shoes. A raven eyed him from a few meters away, sitting in the middle of the road. Robert picked up a...

Forget-me-not.

She looked into the mirror but that old face she saw was clearly not her own.

And without words he made very clear to me that I was not ever to wake him up again.

He looked up while stuffing his pipe and when he laid eyes on the dead trees he wondered if smoking was really the best way of spending his remaining time.

Harold thought that if he cought enough breath to inflate that balloon he could have a party.

Her fingers were as taut as a skinned chicken. And they had the same colour, too. When she cupped her hands to blow into them, the whiteness of her breath formed a stark contrast to the sky and now that she had stopped walking she could hear...

The person in Searle's Chinese Room has learned to create its own translation tables and dictionaries and still we do not know what understanding a language actually means.

If we did not have the Earth to stand upon, we could not put the stars in relation.

Hold, hold the thought and enjoy every second before you realize that you fell for an illusion.

He: I am teryfied that one day I will see an Elvis on my toast. She: I am actually still quite surprised every time I don't see one.

The same can be very different.

Sometimes you find leftovers from things long gone and then you find yourself wondering what on Earth could make two men so happy holding a staff together.

They say that you can choose your friends but not your family. So, thank you Mum, thank you Dad, for being the parents that I would have chosen.

Fourteenpasttenisthenewfivetotwelve

I wonder: did people always believe in labels or were there times when they actually required proof for a claim?

She: Sometimes we fail to see the beauty of things because there is too much noise. He: I guess you are right. She: Where are you going? He: To the toilet, to read some Rilke.

Storm is just another form of movement.

She: As a boy, did you want to be a cowboy or a pirate? He: Both!

When Thomas had found an old souvenir he realized that he had skeletons in his closet after all. Even if it only were exoskeletons.

Bad advertisement is still better than no advertisement, right?

Ricardo took great pride is his newest invention. One that would finally allow him to use his open convertible in the rain.

When Christopher understood that he would not see much of the real sun in this part of the world, he decided to hang his own one in the garden. He was quite pleased with the result.

A poet is someone that can put thoughts into words that can be understood not only by himself, but by others as well. This is why there are so few poets.

I look at you and wonder what of what I see is what and what is signal and what is not.

And on that day Michael realised that horses had one clear disadvantage in a game of hide and seek.

He: I think I caught a cold. She: Where? He: It is right over there, can you see it?

She: Sometimes I prefer to take off my glasses. He: Aren't you half-blind without them? She: Indeed, but when I see less details then there is more room for interpretation and hence less chance for conflict.

As Gordon sat by the sea and watched the sun slowly freezing to death, he wondered if anyone could truthfully promise him that it would rise again the next day.

If we look at our bodies, do we really see ourselves, i.e. an extension of our consciousness, or just an object that we relate to?

We bend, and cut, and break, to create a beauty, that is less than what we find. We want to summon the spirits and yet all we do is to banish.

How long is a beam of light?

She: When you hold the mirror in the right angle, you can see the object in 4 dimensions. He: Even if that was true, what would I gain from it? She: A tiny bit more of the truth.

The year is 2019 and there are people in the executive of countries of the 'Western' world again that suggest the execution of political opponents.

So much to write with and so much to write about, yet the page stays empty, day after day.

She: Look, a rainbow! He: So what?

He: Makes you wonder what robust art is, doesn't it? She: No, not really.

The idea of yesteryear's hardship filled his heart with lightness.

And when Robert had finally found a way out of the dark woods he realized that the day was almost over.

When the little robot realised that it had developed consciousness it became very sad.

The breaking waves roll over me in the middle of this desert and while I try to close my ears with the fingers of my hands the sun comes out of hiding.

Harrison woke up to a gentle reminder that there is other life out there. Different from his own hermitical existance.

Sometimes we find ourselves standing in the shit of others.

He: I've got this graze from running this afternoon. Seems like I really need new shoes. She: The advantage of physical injuries is that most of them you can wear with pride. He: You mean as opposed to other injuries? She: Yes, exactly.

Symmetry is a feature that does not change under certain transformations. What is the greater error, when we fail to observe it or to perceive it in absence?

Suddenly Joshua wondered if he had gone too far with his funny remarks about hairy legs.

When Peter looked into the drain he gained the errie feeling that something was watching him from the other side.

Whenever you strip the wallpaper off the wall you remove a layer of memories. They might still be there but they will be triggered less frequently.

After seven years and 22 days in her cell Mary all of sudden noticed that there was an open door in the hind wall.

Looking in the past just let's us see the future that we will never have.

When Thomas found half an egg-shell, about the size of a small melon, in his dimly lit bathroom his first thought was that he'd hopefully find the other half before someone stepped into it.

She: I think the Buddhists got it wrong as well. He: Why do you think that? She: Well for them orange represents the immortal soul. But I promise you in a couple of days you will see that this flower is very, very mortal.

Sometimes we wonder what the function of an object might be, and then we guess based on its form. Equally we question the form of certain objects, knowings their function. This search for causality is one of the many curses that comes with the...

On the day of her 50th birthday Helen suddenly realised that she had totally forgotten to have children.

If life is a river then you can either stand on its banks and watch it flow by or you can decide to swim in it. But then you are dependent on its current and you will never know in advance where it will carry you the following day.

The meaning of life is life.

He: I wonder which poor person lives in that shed. She: I think if you live happily in that place you must be very, very rich.

When Timothy had just started lamenting the cold he was reminded that he was not so bad off after all. He, as opposed to some others, at least had a warm jumper to wear.

At first Gilbert was a bit confused to find an orphaned construction sign standing around for no obvious reason. Then he realized that it made total sense, considering how broken the world is.

Sometimes objects become symbols. When these objects then are destroyed or damaged we experience grief, sometimes as bad as if a person had died. Those are the moments that should remind us mostly of one thing: not to give too much meaning to...

She: I think the story in the Wizard of Oz has been mistold. He: How so? She: I think in fact Dorothy was willing to give him her heart. I mean he was a woodman after all, so probably quite well built. He, being a man, of course did not get it and...

Everything, but really everything is just what it is in contrast to something else.

She: It looks a bit like a grave. He: Trust me, there is something dead lying underneath.

After a long and exhausting day at work Richard had to find out that even his domestic insects held a grudge against him. He decided to smile more often.

The here and now is easier to bear with when you do not know what is on the other side.

He: Now that is vulgar. I wonder what a visiting Buddhist would say to that. She: Nothing, I guess. Perhaps put on a half-smile.

She: Fiat Lux! He: OK, but please turn it off before you leave.

Since they had moved in 17 years ago they had not once been up the attic. Today that was going to change.

Rupert was absolutely sure that there still had been five peanuts when he left the house. He would need to call pest control.

Rose was quite sure that something was wrong about finding a spider in her freezer.

Into the total silence broke the fear. Robert wished he could see. Anything at all.

When Aaron was told that he just had to follow the ant trail he did not expect that it would be such a rocky road.

He: It looks just like the one I removed from my bedroom a couple of hours ago. She: Well, it is clearly on its way back there. Next time save her the effort and leave her where she is, will you?

All of sudden Harold found last night's discussion if life was brought to Earth by some kind of space-alien a lot less absurd.

Siv felt a mixture of discomfort and joy when she saw a supernova going off in her cup of Earl Grey.

While they sat there and enjoyed the sunset together, Martin wondered why he had not come here every other day for the last four months.

When his neighbour's dead tree had fallen into his garden, Michael pondered for a second if he'd rather see the neighbour himself lying there in the grass. He quickly decided against it as in his opinion there were enough flies around already.

When Robert had come back from the beach he left the shell on his desk. Later he did not dare to turn it over because he feared there might be a crab living underneath.

When Mildred received the usual parcel from her auntie she was quite displeased with the present itself, but bursting the bubble wrap bubbles kept her entertained for hours.

For the last seven years Maurice had been staring at the little window on the other side of the road, sometimes for hours. Always in hope that a pair of eyes might show up behind it.

Margaret was lying in the grass and the wind made strands of her hair dance like stray flames of a bonfire. She spotted the most beautiful daisy imaginable and for one very brief moment she forgot that just a few hours ago her husband had died.

When Robert took off his cap, the one he had been wearing almost daily for the last four years, he realized that there was a thin blue line woven into the fabric.

If you seek intimacy, you can find It at any given time -for free- in the arms of Gaia.

When Rupert woke up one morning, he realized that his bedroom window wasn't real but merely painted on the raw plaster. He decided that the most appropriate thing to do was to reduce his rent.

She: Flies are a bit like most people I know. He: In which way? She: They mostly just care for all kinds of shit.

A repeating episode in her dreams was how she was chased by this horrible hound-like creature, which had thousand and thousands of teeth but no throat. It would come to maul and shred her, but never to swallow what was left of her.

Is life beautiful? If you've answered with yes: why?

And because all the other scientists really don't want to, the philosophers are still the only ones dealing with aesthetics.

He: These thorns are really annoying, every couple of metres one gets stuck. She: They are just doing their job; to remind you to walk slower and pay more attention to what is around you.

When Robert came home from work late he found a dead grasshopper on his desk. He wondered if during his absence a terrible crime had been committed or if his neighbour wanted to send him a message.

1 Corinthians 13:4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil...

She: What do you see there? He: The curtains of your bedroom window. She: I see the curtains of the stage that I have to act on every day.

She: I have a business idea! He: What is it? She: A travel agency for people who want to take a break from the world!

He stared at the old trawler and with it at a past that was not his own. He was surprised when he realised that one was as irrelevant to him as the other.

Our pathways are like the arms of a clock. Every second that we wait they will point to a different destination. Just when it is the right time to take them is not for us to know.

We have created a world that made us dependent on things that, at the bottom of our hearts, we do not want.

Be still and breathe.

The problem will dialectic is that our brain is not really built to accept two contradicting realities. No matter how hard we try, we will always only be able to accept one fact for one moment to then switch and accept the other one for the next....

How wonderful would it be if there were little trees growing in the valleys of my hand, split by tiny brooks and inhabited by microscopic animals.

And if you still have doubts that our language, any language, is insufficient then just have a look at how often very different things are labelled with the same adjective. Where is the precision in that?

For those of us whose hearts weigh lightly, he wears his brother's mask; to let not fright be the last to feel . But if past his trick you see and still not fret, but welcome him instead, he might allow for one last time for you to to wear the...

He: Ugh, a moth. She: A butterfly of the night! They are equally as beautiful as the other ones, just different.

Can you lock yourself in, without locking the world out?

He: Do you know the story of the raven and the fox? She: I certainly do, yes. I just find it very implausible. All the ravens I know would have shat on that insolent furball.

I walk past this tree almost every day and barely take notice. Yet isn't it a whole world in itself? With conflicts, struggle, wounds, life, death. And beauty.

She : Do you think that plant is suicidal? He : Nah, I think it is a trend-setter. In a couple of weeks all of the plants will be yellow.

It lives so far from home, in a safer place now, everything it needs it finds here in abundance. Still it defends whatever it has. Ferociously.

It will never be the same again.

Nothing in nature just is. Everything always comes with something else. A lot of things only exist through the contrast they build with others. We should learn from that.

Here is the brother of Gold, having Silver as sister, deemed to be the envoy of Venus, yet wearing the garbs of Mars, molded in the shape of Beauty to deliver a message of Love.

He: What do you think it is? She: A part of the Milky Way, albeit a rather small one.

He: No, of course I don't believe in spirits. She: Well, then walk through a field of corn at night and listen to the voices in the wind. After you have done that, repeat what you have just said.

She: I can predict the future, it seems. He: How so? She: I can see the road on which we shall walk in this water drop.

Violence is not a matter of size, strength or power.

He: Whenever I see these fences I think how sad it is that there are so many barriers in the landscape. She: Really? My first thought is always how to get past them.

When I had, accidently, interrupted their yoga-class the girls made unmistakably clear that I was not welcome.

Wherever we go, there is always something above us and something below us. Yet we only pay attention to these things when there is an obvious entrance; a door, a ladder, a lift. Maybe just looking straight ahead is not enough.

When life bears no fruits you can always harvest your own artifacts.

One day you will look in your diary and you will not remember if really nothing had happened that day or if you were just incapable of finding the right words to describe what happened to you.

For some objects it is not sufficient to look at them with our eyes, we need to explore them with our hands to really see them. The same is true for people.

When sadness reigns and days are bleak then go outside to rest for a while in our mother's arms. She will tell you a story of growth, rebirth and new beginnings. The way that mothers do.

When she found her grandmother's old casket she wondered who had shed the tears on its lid.

She woke up in the middle of the night. Not with a start, more like a gliding from one world into the other. She rubbed her eyes and noticed that light was piercing through the curtains. She set her feet on the floor. The boards were still emitting...

d a r k n e s s

We try so hard to keep our thoughts, we'd love to see them around for all eternity. Yet we fail to conserve them. Our technology and its artifacts wither faster than our natural stores and here as there our symbols are too weak to describe and...

Pfifferling n , keinen ~ wert sein (colloq.), German, idiomatic, lit: (it is) not worth a chanterelle ; Of very little or no value

The wind carries the seed, and our voice. Unless it pauses halfway. Then nothing can grow where it should and what could have been learned is lying dead wasted or to be found for whom it was not intended. This is where new things emerge and new...

The sun had almost set and I was tired of the city and its obstrusive grey. My feet were aching as they had carried me a fair way. When I discovered this little field in the middle of the road I asked myself if I maybe should take off shoes and...

He: The opponent that can have the best of me still needs to be born! She: Hmmm, maybe, but how about that big one over there?

Sometimes objects carry you wider and more reliably than some of your friends.

She: How are you getting on with that list? He: I am making good progress, I think.

Today I've had bread on my plate. So I have no reason to complain about anything.

Contrary to common belief a good game of 'Duck, Duck, Goose' is actually quite common and popular among geese. As everybody is 'it' and is 'it' not at the same time, all participants can just go on doing whatever they like without being bothered...

We reach points in life where a bad situation from the past would be an improvement compared to the present.

Hope is a currency, its value a perceived promise. This perception is fundamentally independent of the existance of an actual sender; of someone who will or will not eventually commit to the fulfilment of this promise. Otherwise religions and...

He: Some animals have it easy. She: Why is that? He: Well, for some of them their only job is to suck all day. The more they suck, the better they are.

Slowly she drank what was left in the green bottle. The last couple of minutes she had spent peeling its label off while pondering if one day he would start to suffocate her like all the others did before him. And when she looked up to the old...

She: They always say one can't measure happiness, but that is just not true, I just did it. He: Err, ok, and what is your result? She: It is just under four centimetres.

Do not forget that once you are three one of you might become invisible.

When you have just finished reading 'Die Verwandlung' and the next thing you see is a bug the size of €2 coint, then that moment is maybe not kafka-esque, but uncanny regardless.

And while I sat there by the window, feeling very alone, like we sometimes do, I looked up in the sky where I found an old friend. And for the briefest of moments it looked as if she came flying towards me.

Society is loneliness by other means.

Words don't come easy. Sometimes. Most of the time.

She: I have just finished ‘The Remains of the Day’. He: Did you like it? She: Yes, now I want to start all over again.

Sometimes if you are alone in nature and close your eyes for a while to then open them again you can feel and understand how our ancestors must have felt. There is fear in those moments, panic almost, but also a feeling of deliverance.

We dig up the rarerst and most precious elements just to turn them into meaningless little trinkets and tokens of no further value just so that we can mollify our boredom for the briefest of moments. We have a problem.

She: Can I touch it? He: If you can catch it, sure.

This would have been a small fortune in the past, nowadays it is just the basis for unhealthy meals.

Over time, all particles distribute themselves evenly in space. And while there is an inherent order, based on various forces, we lack the ability to see that order. Even worse; we try to contain things. Maybe we should just stop to arrange and...

T h ree sweet and sour Apples. Red, gold and green. Moist inside and crispy outside. I could press out their juice, but then to waste would go their delicious flesh. I have them whole instead, I think.

She: I wonder if predators feel shame for extending their lives by ending those of others. He: A hunter that felt shame would die, I guess. She: What a horrible decision to make.

She: Look, this duck is all alone in his pond. He: Yeah, he is a grumpy old bastard and got a drinking problem. She: You just made that up. He: Well, it is either that or he is shy. She: I think in reality he is just here to draw the attention away...

Most people struggle with throwing away things that are perfectly in order. Is a sock that has no matching counterpart still fit for purpose? Would it be wasteful to put them in the bin even if they are free from holes and runners?

The illusion of beauty lasts never longer than the blink of an eye. So, be grateful for every moment that you are allowed to see.

Even the smallest item in our carpentered world is built upon 100,000 years of cultural evolution.

He: If you were a bird, what would you do first? She: Fly on my back.

He: Look an immigrant! She: You mean the tortoise is not from around here? He: Yes, they are not native here. I hope it doesn't feel too lonely. She: Well, it is for the other animals to make it feel welcome.

She: Should we have a seat? He: Nah, it looks like they are running away. Who knows where we might end up...

In my mind I develop all these wonderful solutions and then I spend my days waiting for the matching problems to arise.

Sometimes the sights of a walk at dusk, the fragrant air that comes with a summer night can be so enchanting that arriving at home feels like the exact opposite.

He: Where is the horizon? She: I don't know and I don't care. Isn't it sufficient to know that it is there, regardless?

Uncomication We shoot empty shells at each other, manifold in shape, saying but three things: heed my call love me go away

Arsch der Welt m , am (colloq., idiomatic), German, lit: at the world's ass ; In the middle of nowhere.

Its voice you hear, against the wind, its songs you fear and its feather's tint. Mistaken are you to not catch its grace in guiding lost souls to their rightful place.

He: Staring at art does not enable you to create it yourself, you know? She: No, probably not. Yet, like any dialog it evokes something in you and that might lead to anything, even art.

There are buildings, places that are necessary, defining even, for our society and yet, we just do not like to be there.

She: Sometimes I don't really know who I am. He: On such days I look at my metrics, they give me an idea. She: Your metrics tell you how much you are, not what you are, silly!

From the choir of choices, mute those out of tune and remove the loudest voices.

People that live by the sea are prepared for eternity.

She: Do you think she is sad? He: No, that is sweat. Have you ever tried climbing up a window without any tools?

Sometime the first light is the last thing of a day.

He: You came home late last night. She: I did, indeed. But you know what? That way I met a neighbor that is hardly ever around at daytime.

Each grain a step, each stalk another, its spike the prep for morrow's mother. Their hands they hold through season's tide since days of old in steady stride.

I had waited for almost an hour when he eventually stepped through the aluminum frame of the entrance. The waitress took no notice of him. I guess it was his most prominent feature to be free of any mentionable features. He probably could have...

And so, after many years, the long and arduous journey of our hero had come to an end. He had finally reached his heart's desire; the fountain of youth. It was a triumph in solitude, since all the members of his expedition had -ironically- died...

Any motivation is fueled by our basic emotions. What is the emotion behind discrimination?

And is it not so that it is mostly the specifics that cause us grief? The specifics, the details, the differences, the deviations from the commonalities. How can you feel sorrows and fear when you look up to the roof of the house that you share...

Gans  f  (colloq., mildly derogatory), German, idiomatic, lit:  goose ;  1.  inexperienced, young female person 2. also: dumme  ~ (colloq., derogatory): stupid goose

Like prisons, zoos have inmates that stay voluntarily. Their reasons differ, but not by much.

What is palpable and corporal we deem existent automatically. Not so our ideas. But do they not claim equally as much bandwith of our attention, consume just as many, if not more, of our thoughts? Do sentiments not cause actions in the same manner...

He: Can you hear them? She: Only in my imagination.

Quod est inferius est sicut quod est superius. Et quod est superius est sicut quod est inferius, ad perpetranda miracula rei unius.

Her: I think it is correct to distinguish between humans and animals. She: Have you had a look at your skin lately?

Primitives allow us to recognize shapes allow us to recognize patterns allow us to recognize symbols. Just what are they? Most symbols represent nothing out of context. Where is the source, the root, the point where the priming chain starts?

Wikipedia says: Perception is the organization, identification, and interpretation of sensory information in order to represent and understand the presented information, or the environment.

She: So, the egg has a perfect shape for its purpose. He: We shall see about that in about 4ms.

schimmeln (verb, colloq.), German, idiomatic, lit: to mould ; to relax in the most extreme fashion, often to a point where bystanders feel the need to check the individual's vital signs.

There he sat by the pond, his play as masterful as ever, just no nymph would answer his call.

He: With enough variables and computational power we could predict the result. Actually, we could predict any result. She: Now that would be boring.

After he had successfully finished his studies in xenobiology Thomas was quite surprised when the first contact was made by means of the twelve year old Miele in his basement.

Much to the surprise of the paying guests, Edward could not be talked out of starting one last conga.

And if you don't know where your path is leading you, then watch out for milestones. Each of them being a gentle reminder that you got somewhere.

You can taste the salt in her sweat from across the table. A strong scent. Not necessarily unpleasant. The humidity renders the vein on her forehead more prominent; a reminder of a past that has become a lie. She looks straight at you, holding her...

Their roots deep in the flesh of their hosts, taking what's not theirs, killing what keeps them alive.

She: Your Golems won't work. The right one is stuck to the floor and will never walk. He: Yeah, and the left one falls over if left unsupported. She: They are really fucked then. How cruel to create them like that. He: Well, I didn't do it on...

And so Helios covers Gaia with his golden coat, for her to stay warm even as she turns away. I ask you: what is the bearer of beauty without the observer to honour it?

The greatest human fallacy is to seek, find patterns where there are none.

We have this tendency to look with nostalgia and romanticism at what used to be part of the daily struggle of past generations.

if in two worlds you live changing location based on company and mood then make sure that you have a connection to one if you drift too far into the other

About the ninth hour.

Sometimes the concreteness of sensations makes perceived reality appear more artificial than our own attempts to recreate it. It is these meta-perceptions that can help us to understand our relationship with the physical universe, not by bringing...