Friday, November 25, 2011

the key

»You know, there are two sorts of things in life: The round and the rest. That's the secret, if you've comprehended this, you possess the key to a happy life. Because the round things are the good ones and then there are skinny things.

Anything skinny will break sooner or later or get jammed or you get it between your feet and you fall down and what will you end up with? Exactly, a bleeding nose. I don't want it, you don't want it. Skinny things are not good.

Then there are pointed things, the kind with straight edges and corners and all that. Pretty high potential to get hurt or cause accidents. I believe these are mostly dangerous, non-helpful things. And straight and pointed things tend to bend easily or get damaged (at least thats my experience so far), these clearly lack roundness, that’s the problem here.

Round is nicer. Tends to hold a lot of pressure and if it bends, it is still round. Easier to turn and good for both the flow of energy and your spine. Especially at the neck. Plus it tastes better.

There seem to be more shapes and forms and stuff, but that's not for me. Too confusing. I say: you want a happy life, you stick to the round things.«

I shrugged. This guy was completely nuts.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

cats and dogs

Are you still looking for your cat? What did it look like?

Cute. I like striped cats a lot. You must know, I am very fond of pets in general, and I definitely prefer cats to dogs.
Dogs are, well, they are so reliable, that’s a bit boring in a way, do you know what I mean? With cats, they’re never quite tame, they keep having their own lifes. Much more exiting.
There is always a certain mystery about cats: you never know what they will do next. They don’t follow you like dogs, it is more like they accept you to keep them company. You can feel chosen, haha

… Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.

That is the down side: A cat can just decide to leave and you will never know why. Just disappear and that’s it. Very sad, I can fully understand your grief – but still a truly free being did chose to walk a part of the way with you, I wouldn’t say it is an honour, but it surely is a good thing. 

Anyway: good luck, I hope you’ll find your cat. Striped, you say? I’ll let you know when I see it. I told you, I like cats a lot, especially striped ones.

I like cats.

Thursday, November 3, 2011


Today I met the headmaster of the universe. I can't tell you who gave me the address, because I promised not to do so, and I won’t say where she lives for the same reason, just one thing: You’d be surprised.
I admit I expected something impressing and representative, but the location is … well, humble at least. This is mainly because, to rule the world, it’s best to go unnoticed. She said, it is even essential. Importance or noticability would just interfere with what you have to do.

So she asked me in, we sat down and had a cup of tea. I was rather intimidated at first. After all I was having tea with the most important being of the universe! But she was very nice, just as humble as her residence, and soon we chatted as if we’d known each other for a long time (which, in a way, is the case). Here is some of our conversation:

»I’m sure you must very busy, I hope I’m not keeping you away from work?«
»You don’t keep me from anything. Take a seat. Tea?«
»Yes please, thank you.« I sat down. She made rattling noises with the tea pot. I asked If I could help, but she refused my offer. When she came back with the tea, I asked:
»So is it true that you’re the ruler of the world?«
»Ruler doesn’t quite match it, more like a janitor. And: The universe, not the world.«
»Is that 'yes'?«
She smiled. »Sure«, she said.
»A Janitor, you say … excuse me, but it doesn’t seem to be in very good shape lately.«
»You think so? A lot of things are just like they're supposed to be. You must understand, that a certain amount of imbalance is needed to keep it all moving. Of course there is always some tweaking necessary, and it’s a problem when people try to interfere, but, well, that's why a headmaster is needed, so who am I to complain?« She smiled and took her cup. »But I am boring, talking about my work all the time. What’s it like to be a deer, I’m very curious about this …«

And so we sat and chatted all afternoon.

it’s best to go unnoticed

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

once you’re tuned in to it

Did you see that guy? He was looking at me … in a way, I don’t know what to make of it. I can tell something is going on here, weird things, you know. Once you’ve noticed it you kind of tune in to it, and then it is obvious. They are planning something.
What I’m doing here, you know, it’s just my job, nothing personal. Still it means you can’t always be friends with everybody. A while ago I began to notice something was … well, different. Like, when people talk and fall silent the moment I get near them. The looks, all the little signs.

Got to be careful.

I’m quite sure they still think I don’t know. Ha, that is the one step I am ahead of them. Never let them know what I know, very important, very important. I trust you, I wouldn’t tell you all this if I didn’t, I saw you how you look over your shoulder sometimes. I bet you’ve noticed, too. Maybe you are on their list as well, who knows? What do you think? Say nothing, the walls have ears.

What strikes me is this: why me? What is so special about me that makes them build this incredibly complex, gobal network around my person to observe my moves, all the schemes they must be making, trying to get at me … it all proves that I must be of unimaginable importance.
I just wonder why.

What was that noise behind us?

you must have noticed, too

Monday, September 19, 2011

the order of things

William came home from another long and messy business trip and just before he opened his front door, when he noticed his neighbor, Mr. Nelson. Mr. Nelson was out on his front yard, mowing his lawn.

This is odd, William thought.

Instead of opening the door, he turned around and went back to the bus station. Next to it was a little shop that sold newspapers, candy bars and a limited assortment of groceries. William had hardly ever been inside, but he knew where it was.
William went inside and studied the frontpages of the newspapers. Hm, just what I suspected, he thought to himself. Then he asked the shopkeeper, just to make sure.

»'cuse me, which day of the week is it?«
»It’s Monday. Would you like to buy a newspaper, sir?«
»Hm, I thought so. No thanks, I don’t read much.«, William replied and headed back home.

So it was monday. Why would anyone mow his lawn on a monday? Weird. William was deeply confused. It was his conviction that there is a natural order to things that mustn’t be messed with. He slowly trodded towards his front door, keys in his hand, passing Mr. Nelson a second time, who was still busy mowing his front door lawn. Absently he greeted him.
»Arr, William. Back from your trip?«
William opened the door and walked inside.

William was deeply confused.

Friday, September 16, 2011


Excuse me, you don’t know what it means to be this pretty.

I feel the eyes of everyone on me, all the time. I don’t even dare to go out so much, it really is such a heavy burden. All that greed, the envy, the desire. The admirers. The ones that are intimidated. The phantasies that my looks seem to trigger.

Nobody treats me like a normal person, that’s the bottom line. Can anyone of you imagine what it is like to live like that, every day of my life?

Of course not, how would you.
Why is it so hard to comprehend that it is not a crime to be as gorgeous as I am? I can’t help it, I didn’t mean to be of mesmerizing beauty, sorry to be born that way. I just want to be accepted as a person, am I asking for too much?

But I see everybody change when I get into sight, feel you all getting so tense. Why don’t you relax and give me a chance to show who I am? Most of you probably assume me to be vain, stupid or arrogant, whatever. It’s just a surface, you might find out there is a sensitive and vulnerable being inside this perfectly shaped body of mine. 

This is so sad ...

mesmerizing beauty

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

the token jellyfish

Okay, they want me to put in my two cents to this blog. I suspect I am a kind of a token here – I’m the first water animal here, no?

Excuse me for not counting the bird in a submarine here. Funny.
The deer told me that they make a point of not featuring humans here, which seems bizarre at first glance. But after I recovered from my laughing fit and I did read a bit in the blogs all around, it looks indeed like humans are over-represented there. Just – sorry, but honestly, they all look alike. Me, I’ve been around the block a few times, I wouldn’t say vertebrae, but mammals? No chance, they are so similar really. I mean I read it and it seems to matter to them but put a deer in my face and tell me its a turkey, I won’t notice probably.

Oh, turkey isn’t a mammal? There you go.

It’s all about the point of view, you see? We are neglected by these people. it’s not like we are a minority on this planet, are we? A few warm-blooded creatures went to the dry areas (why would anybody do so in the first place?), developed some primitive technology and immediately forgot about the rest of us.

So if there is something for me to tell here, it’s this: Peace, man. We are all carbon-derived life forms after all (okay, most of us are), so let’s try to get along. Just don’t forget time didn’t stand still in the ocean. We are still here. Respect us.
And if those humans are bothering you, you do have these submarines …

Just kidding.

did you notice you all look alike?

Friday, August 26, 2011

but underneath …

He, Gringo, what’s up?
All pretty caramba around here-io, no?

O.K., I admit, I’m not from this area and I try to mix in a bit.
When you’re in Rome …
What? You‘ve never seen a hat like that around here? Well, then it's about time to open your eyes, smarty. You call it silly? A disguise? Oh, I understand.

You have probably never heard of style, have you? This phenomenous hat makes me a man of class and substance, it adds that certain flavour to my personality. When I enter a room wearing it, I feel eyes turning to me, people holding to their wine glasses in awe and respect: They realize, in an instant of immediatelyness, that someone BIG just crossed their ways, and they probably feel their simple little lives will never be the same again. My aura – stretching out even beyond it’s ample brim – fills the room and they treat me to some ice cream.
(which, by the way, doesn’t melt so fast in the shadow of my grande hat.)

Hasta la vida, like they say here. I bet you‘ll get yourself a hat now.

Thanks for the ice cream.

the gentleman and his hat

Thursday, August 25, 2011

uncanny rabbits

They are out there every night.
Simply sit in the grass, under the moonlight or in the rain, every day.
Probably harmless. Just meeting, talking about their next gathering, chatting like this:

»When is our next appointment, the three of us? In whatever weather conditions there may be...«
»Well afther the hurly and thso on. When the carrotte is lost and, hopefully, wonne again.«
»I liketh carrots.«
(agreeing noises  from the others)
»That maketh it about ere the set of sunne then, huh? After tea-time?«
»Okay we have a time now. But where the place?«
»Now what a questhion? This is the best plathe. I don't want to meet thsomewhere else.«
»So the heath again. Well … exciting … but if you like it.«  
(shrugs, as far as rabbits can do that)
»There to meet with fresh carrots?«
»I liketh carrots. I come.«
»Hold it, grey!«
(all three giggle like teenagers – suddenly silence)
»The aire is foule. Filthy, I’d say.«
»Don’t look at me like that. It came from over there.«

Then they leave, and they will be there tomorrow, same time, on the grass. Something is odd about them, I can't help it.

when the hurley-burley’s done.

Friday, August 19, 2011

fairy tales

My niece used to be such a nice and friendly girl. But then, about a year ago, she started to hang out with these weird people. Mostly fairies and elves, from what I’ve heard.

I saw her last week, hardly recognized her at all. I mean she looked like in the magazines she’s probably reading, like a model. All glittery and horse-like, with shiny fur and horn polish and all. And she lost so much weight, I wonder if she ever eats! I guess it’s the folks she is with, that is another world, very glamourous and, well, fake. Nobody looks like that in real life, it is just impossible.

But these young girls, they believe they can transform into what they see in the magazines by doing horrible things to themselves, and they never realize they are trying to match what is nothing but an artificial image that never existed in reality.

And the fairies encouraged her to that. It’s sad. But try to talk to her, she won’t listen. We are wonderful creatures the way we are. Can’t improve that.

I’m afraid she has to find out by herself.
Hope she’ll make it...

the truth about unicorns

Thursday, August 11, 2011


I admit I should choose my words with more caution.

To a degree, we all seem to assume that the other understands what we mean. Nothing wrong with it, this is how communication works, basically … As long as it doesn’t require mind-reading, it ’s fine. Most of the times. Just sometimes we use these metaphors, images, how ever it is called, these things everybody says all the time and you would never think of somebody not getting that it isn’t meant the way we put it. But this is just an assumption. You never know.

I’ve always relied on: If they don’t get it, they’ll ask. Forgot that someone might get it wrong, and not notice.

This friend of mine (former friend, I should probably say by now), he came along and asked me for a favour. No problem, I am happy to help, but he asked me for my assistance quite a few times before and this time he could help me, too, so I asked him for a favour in return.
Or that was what I intended to say. As I mentioned, I should've chosen my words with more caution.

On the other hand: look at me.
Would I ask someone to scratch my back?

look at me.

Monday, August 1, 2011

rock star

You have been one of ther most influential musicians of the last decades, critics found that you captured the spirit of a whole generation like very few bands in popular music. How do you feel when people compare you to, say, Harry and the Hairballs or Claws, just to name a few.

(laughs) well, who wrote that? Anyway, someone seems to like what we do. Cool.

Did becoming the superstar you are now change your life a lot? I know, this must be a question you are asked quite often in interviews like ours. 

Yes. Quite often.

I would like to ask you a few questions about your private life, the person you are when you’re not on stage, and how being as popular as you are affects your life as compared to the lifes that we, who do not stand in the spotlight of the mass media, know.

Oh. Why do you think this is interesting?

I’m sure our readers would like to know how your life is, compared to their own lifes, it might make them feel like they know you. Many of them are your fans, you know…

So you assume your readers are interested. How about you, you are a journalist, do you…

You know, I do this a lot. I ask these questions to some very popular person and our readers seem to like that. I help you celebrities get more and more popular and nobody remembers my name, ever. It’s not like I expect to reveal any groundbreaking news doing this.

So you would rather ask critical questions? Discover dark secrets? What are your dreams and hopes, what did make you want to become a journalist?

It is what I do best. I told stories as long as I can think, used to make up tales and told them to my hamster when I was a kid.
After school I dreamed of becoming an author, write a great novel and get the recognition I deserve, that sort of thing, you know? You must understand I come from a very simple background, we never had much money. Finally my parents convinced me to get into journalism. It puts bread on the table and I'm still able to write. You know what it’s like (or maybe not, I don’t know).
So I am in this field now, but I can do better. I know that one day I will get my chance to write „the“ big story. There is more to journalism than interviewing rock stars and I know I am good. Just waiting for my great moment. You’ll see!

I am sure you’ll get your chance. Our time is over, gotta get on stage now. Thank you for this interview.

But I …

get on stage now

Thursday, July 28, 2011

free as a bird

I ’dont mind flying, it is not what people imagine, but it’s OK. Just don’t give me that „free bird“ crap. That is made up by people who are just envious ’cause they can’t do it themselves. Just try flapping your arms for an hour, you’ll see what I mean. It is exhausting. Big time.
Plus, just because we can fly, it doesn’t mean we can do what we want. Still gotta build that nest, stuff these beaks, lay those eggs, you know what I mean? I’m lucky I don’t have to migrate like the other guy, would be too much for me.
They say that the early bird catches the worm. True. I’m not a morning person, myself, and I can’t see what is so bad about people throwing breadcrumbs from the bridge. Leave the worms to the early birds, I say. Honestly, would you eat worms? Uuh!

Like I said, I don’t mind flying, just there are these days when I simply can’t get myself around to … guess you know what it’s like. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not exactly lazy. I just don’t like work too much. Flying is a great thing. I love to watch them do it.

I don’t fly today

Monday, July 25, 2011

and now to something completely different …

I live in this perennial state of confusion, just sometimes I find it difficult to lose my way around here. I’ve long felt that a map would be really useless, but there didn’t seem to be one available!
So I undecided to make one.

Here it is – the guide to getting lost:

part of "they draw and travel"

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

being small

I've always been quite small and one day I was just fed up with being pushed around. Some people told me this is just the way it is, there is a reason for the small and weak ones to be in this world, but I just couldn’t accept that.
I just didn’t know what to do about it.

Then I met this guy who had an amazing fertilizer method. He told me there is a solution, I do not have to be this small. He sold me this patented device (Flow-A-Pot it was called, I think. His own invention!), and I had to stay in there four hours every day, my feet in the mud. And I was sprinkled with fertilizer, very good stuff: I spent a fortune on this fertilizer.
It didn’t work right away (this is normal, he said, it can take a few weeks to catch on), and unfortunately he had to leave to Offigo country to save a sick family member’s life. Before he left, he measured me and found that I had already grown some, but in a way the effect didn’t last. He left his yardstick and it was shorter than mine, probably due to a side effect of the fertilizer. So there I was still as small as before.

Then I started this sport thing and the teacher showed me how it can be an advantage to be small. The funny thing is, I don’t need to use it. I just wear this suit and put on my „don't mess with me“-face. That’s enough!

So I’m still small, but it’s OK now, at least the pushing around has stopped.
Still I’m hoping for the fertilizer guy to come back. With the money I saved by now, I’d like to grow a bit more …

the don’t mess with me - face!

Thursday, July 14, 2011

difficult conversation

He obviously had a hard time with the hot summer weather. Something seemed exotic or strange about him. I watched for a while, but as I suspected him to notice me staring at him, I brought myself to ask him where he came from.
»Tibet«, he replied curtly.
»Oh, I guessed you come from far away. So are you a political refugee?«
»Not into politics. Don’t like them.«

It has always been my conviction that it is wrong to just mind one’s own business, as we are all affected by the decisions made in the political realm, but I didn’t know the guy and to avoid an argument, I decided to change subjects. (He also seemed to be a lot stronger than I am, by the way.)

»So why did you come to our forest then?« I asked.
»Travelling.« He didn’t seem to be much of a talker. I tried something else.
»So what do you do for a living? It must be very expensive for you to travel so far, you must be doing well. How do you pay off your credit card?« (One of the few things I know about Tibet is that it is not a rich country.)
»Credit card??« There was a fierce gleam in his eyes. Not a good idea to talk about money to a stranger. So another quick change of subject.
»So how do you like it here?« There we go: your all-time favourite standard question to a tourist. »Good to get away from all the snow for a while, huh?«
»Snow. Really fond of it … I miss snow …« was he sobbing?
»Come on! A man like you!« I tried.
»I’m not a man. I’m a girl« it whined.
I was puzzled. That was quite a beard for a girl! But I kept this thought to myself and stayed with the nice and safe tourist questions.
»Where do you plan to go next?« I asked.

This time she smiled.
»London. I’ve been told it is a cool place.«, was her reply.
»It is so hot here«, she added.
»You shouldn’t wear that fur coat in summer«, I told her.

»Fur coat?«

going to a cool place

Thursday, July 7, 2011

tales of carrots and terror

When the night falls upon your innocent little houses with your innocent little children’s rooms and your innocent little back yard gardens with innocent little vegetable patches – stay inside, you brave little people, and make sure your windows are closed! For it may be one of these pitch black, moonless nights, when as soon as the deep shadows creeps over the lettuce, unspeakable things emerge from their secret hideouts. Creatures of the gloom. Be afraid! You will not be the first ones to step outside your innocent little houses in the morning and find your vegetables dead – drained of every last drop of carrot juice!

I know you like these cute fluffy little beings, and rightfully so. Just you never forget, there is a dark side to it. I know you won’t believe me. Just listen to the night. Can’t you hear something moving in the darkness?

You have been warned.

be afraid!

Friday, July 1, 2011

the wild one

Now you don’t talk so loud, do you? You were all so sure that I wouldn’t do it. Thought I was afraid, told me it was too dangerous, ha! You don’t know me. I need the thrill of danger like I need my peppermint tea in the morning. An adrenalin addict, that’s what I am, I need the rush of the boiling blood in my veins when I stand unblinkingly facing death, that is my oxygen. Action is my last name.
I showed you.
I told you so.

What’s for dinner?

Mr. Action

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

not a blog post

So I met a bird in a submarine. Needless to say, this looks really strange and of course people started to tell me to write about it in my blog.

Now, this would be the most predictable thing to do.

I could say it’s name was Nemo (it’s not), and describe how Nemo explores new worlds he never knew and maybe talk about a funny encounter with a starfish or a whale or whatever sea animal, post a picture of what I was writing about (the bird in the submarine), and win an award for the dullest idea in a blog. Instant fame.

Trying to avoid to be that boring, I asked Ulisses (that’s his real name) about some adventure he might have had in his submarine. Now Ulisses is not much of a storyteller, all he said was how nice it was to get away from the constant twittering and how he disliked sea animals and that worms weren’t what they used to be in the old days. He also suggested I could write a post about him in my blog. Nice idea, I said and – for a second or two – considered to post a chicken soup recipe instead.

So I decided to write a story about a yeti wandering around the streets of some middlesized european town on a midsummer night trying to buy crushed ice with an expired credit card and illustrate it with a picture of Ulisses in his vessel. This seemed like a less predictable approach, but the yeti was offended (I had to promise to write about him later on, no credit cards involved), and so was Ulisses, who claimed he wasn’t inferior to a yeti and accused me of hating birds out of mammalocentrism (whatever that means).

I give up.
Here is the picture:

a bird in a submarine!

Monday, June 27, 2011

an Interview

 - Mr. G., welcome to our forest. Is there anything you want to tell us first?
Oh please don’t call me Mister. You have to know I am still a child, despite my size. Just call me Junior. I want to say I am very happy to be here, you have lots of free space. I like that.

- Okay Junior, some people around here wonder why you brought cars and houses with you. Usually we try to avoid human stuff …
 Oh these are just toys. I hope you don’t mind? I’m a kid, I like to play.

- Well actually you deserted half of the forest »playing« … I heard you are japanese?
  Not exactly japanese, I was raised in the ocean nearby. And I know what you are hinting at. I must say, I’m terribly sorry, I have nothing to do with what happened and … I don’t wanna talk about it.

- I didn’t …
Honestly I had no idea, they knew they were taking a risk, didn’t they? It’s an earthquake area anyway …

     - well…
     … All I did was … I didn’t do anything … why is everybody blaming me, I am just a little kid, I came to your forest ‘cause I heard its nice and peaceful and you keep asking me these questions and…

    -…  er …
    … and how was I to know in the first place? Just because I am so small you think you can accuse me but a child has to have the right to play and its not fair the way everybody treats me I’m always doing everything wrong like mama said why do I have to break everything I touch but just ask her about Tokyo, you‘ll see what happens and then I come here and I am not a bad kid all I am is a bit larger than most of you is that a crime did you never destroy a city or something things happen and it’s so unfair …

    - take a handkerchief.
    Thank you!

    Uuh. Is that nuclear snot?
    Comes off with plutonium soap.

    just playing

      Sunday, June 19, 2011


      He didn‘t have such an easy life. It‘s not like people usually think … wallowing in the mud, eating roots, these easy peasy kind of things. Actually it was hard work. Just keeping the sounder together was a task of it‘s own. His folks were not exactly classic examples for discipline, not only the kids. And there was quite a lot of competition going on, like at any workplace: everybody wants to be the boss. Lots of ambition, no discipline. And the girls – sugar and spice. Need I say more?
      Then there were dogs to watch out for (The days of wolves were over. Regrettably, he thought, because even though they were dangerous, at least they had their standards), tourists, hunters, cars, you name it … lots of responsibility.
      And for eating roots: you gotta find them first to eat them. Not as simple as it sounds. Wallowing in the mud was okay.
      So after a long day’s work, there was nothing better than a drink at the pub down the muddy road. Here he could relax and be nothing but a simple boar with a beer at the bar.

      it isn‘t that easy being a boar

      Thursday, June 16, 2011

      nice and friendly

      Okay, there‘s nothing wrong with trying to be nice and friendly. At least it‘s better than walking around with a grumpy face and shouting at people with no apparent reason. Basically this is what we all thought around here, I guess. It is pretty much common sense to think like that.
      Until that little critter came to our wood.
      Not that he did anything wrong or offensive (that would have made it a lot easier), he seems to be a nice person if you stand being around him long enough. However, it’s hard to imagine anybody who could.

      We couldn’t complain, but there is something about him that drives everybody nuts. If only he could stop smiling for a minute...

      Thursday, June 2, 2011

      thoughts of a migrating bird

      Travelling. It sounds so exciting, but really … after a while you’ve had it. Commuting like this can be exhausting. After all this time you know every single tree and rooftop along the way and all you want is your own cartwheel with a cosy nest of your own.
      Does that sound boring? It‘s just that migrating can be such a drag. You’re never quite there, always on your way, you know?
      I reckon, after a while one feels the itch to move on again. We’re not easily satisfied with what we’ve got, are we?
      Oh, the wind is changing. One more drink and I‘ll be back on the cloud!
      See you.

      See you. Have a nice air or whatever, I just wish you a good trip. Beware of the turkeys!
      Turkeys? What a stupid thing to say, I thought.

      have a nice trip

      Wednesday, June 1, 2011

      what it‘s like

      Well, she said, you know …
      I have this friend, or at least this person I know.
      She seems to have a little … erm … don’t want to call it a problem, problem is not so nice, a kind of an issue I‘d say, is that a better word, issue?
      Anyway this personIknow, hum, she did a »thing«, it just happened to her, i guess she can‘t help it.
      It‘s kind of embarrassing when that happens, very not nice thing to do with all people watching and so on, very embarassing.
      I imagine it to be embarassing, that is. Talking of if one was in that position like this personIknow.

      I listened. She was talking anyway, no need to ask questions.

      So I‘m just asking, she went on, theoretically, you know, if this »thing« happened to someone, what would I do? Just interested, of course, I don’t want you to think … well you could think that maybe I myself …

      She fell silent for a while.

      You don’t know what it‘s like to be a bird.

      I handed her a tissue.

      a very not nice thing

      Tuesday, May 31, 2011

      the pilot

      He didn’t say much now. This was what he was like before the flight – his mind completely focused on the task that lay before him. The tension was incredible. He prepared himself for the massive stress is body was about to have to take. Not losing his concentration was crucial. He’d have to rely on his lightning fast reactions. One single mistake could be the end, so he couldn’t get away with a single moment of unattentiveness. Even blinking one’s eye was potentially fatal, so he didn’t. Not that it was his first flight but even more so - routine misled many of them before to carelessness. And there were birds and raindrops and all kinds of dangers out there. But there also was freedom and that smell that made men like him go out there again and again, no matter how dangerous it was. It was an obsession: flying was just his nature.
      He wiped his face once more. A slight movement in his feet.
      Ready to take off.

      completely focused on his task.

      Friday, May 27, 2011

      finders keepers

      Oh, what a swell hat. This looks like a premium quality, very good hat. I bet it was expensive. Could even belong to a celebrity, some superstar kind of person. Just that kind of hat is it.
      I wonder who left it here. I could … well maybe …
      No I won’t do that.
      I mean, what if … if I just picked it up and and tried it on for a second? I really wonder if it would fit me.
      Honestly, an exceptionally beautiful hat. And it is blue. Did I mention that I am very fond of the colour blue, particularly with hats? Well, I am.
      Nice, nice nice ...
      But if (i mean, if) I try it on, just for a second, only to find out if it fits my head which is a rather small head, so it might be too large anyway, so if I’d try it on and just in that very moment the supercelebrity owner of this nice blue hat happened to pass by, say, searching for his hat he lost just a few minutes ago – that would put me in a situation. Yes, I guess so.
      On the other hand, they say finders keepers, don’t they?
      But these super rich celebriticity hat owners, you don’t want to mess with them. I heard that, everybody knows it.
      I better leave it here, better not touch it. Don’t want to get myself in trouble here.

      I might come back later and see if it is still here.

      what a nice hat this is

      Thursday, May 26, 2011

      slow please

      I can't stand that. Everybody keeps standing in my way. How can they all move so slowy? Seriously, this is driving me crazy. CRAZY!!!
      Everyboy seems to have so much time. I got to be there first, can’t anybody see that? It is IMPORTANT to be the first one, don’t wanna be a loser after all. GET GOING NOW!!!! Are you all frozen to the ground?
      I'll never get past these sloths. Hurryhurryhurry! I just can’t believe it.
      Why the hurry? I want to be there early, so I can wait a little. Calms me down.

      slow please

      Wednesday, May 25, 2011

      mostly harmless visitor

      I am new to this forest and I come in peace.
      Having travelled this far, I can not enoughly stress the massivility of importicance of having your towel with you allst the time. Especially today!
      Oh, you already knew that?
      Well, what about some tea then?

      What about some tea?

      Tuesday, May 24, 2011

      scribble your own

      The cat has grown older, but it‘s still there where it always was. It didn’t learn how to sing in all these years, would not even get through the front door of american idol with that voice.
      The cat doesn‘t care, it is a legend anyway.
      Everybody knows that.
      And once you got used to the voice, you‘ll realize that it sings the best songs in the world. Seriously.
      Here‘s to the cat.

      the best songs in the world

      rain or shine

      He carried an umbrella with him wherever he went, every day. Just in case, he would say (if adressed, maybe, on a hot and sunny summer day by some really curious person who couldn’t help staring at him and who then decided it to be better to ask right away). Just in case.
      For most people this was enough of an explanation.
      The truth is, he didn’t carry the umbrella for fear that it might rain, like most people probably assumed. He just did not want to lose it.
      »You know how it goes«, he explained when I finally came around to ask him, »It rains, and you go outside with your umbrella. You come to a friend’s house, or maybe the office or your nest« (Did I mention that he was a bird? Not that it mattered much here.) »Later, when you leave, the sun is shining, and you forget it. And you will never remember where you left it.«
      I nodded. This made sense.

      he always carried his umbrella

      Sunday, May 22, 2011

      the deer

      It all started because of that little critter!
      The deer was in a strange mood. Munching on some leaves, he muttered »In the old days, the grass used to be greener«.
      A little voice coming from the grass nearby said: »And what are you going to do about it?«
      »What do you mean: do about it??«
      »You can complain all you want, it won’t change a thing. Get the word out, tell everybody what you found out, share your experience and make this a wiser world!« The voice sounded more and more excited.
      »Nobody will listen« the deer complained. »People are never interested.«
      »Did you even try?« whose ever voice it was, it had a point, thought the deer.
      »So you want me to climb onto the rock and shout my stories out into the wood with my mighty deer‘s voice?«
      (The deer was quite proud of it’s belling.)
      »C‘mon, it’s the 21st century!«, the little voice replied, »I know we are just creatures in the wood, but still …«
      »So what do I do then?«
      »Start a blog!«

      this is the only picture of the deer