Monday morning.
There is snow in Germany, and it looks like faded whites through the curtains in my bedroom.
By the end of this week I am a quarter of a century old.
The prospect of living another half a century seems naturally very far.


”I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.”

~Friedrich Nietzsche,
Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.