Since the beginning of time, people have been asking themselves about the meaning of the universe and other existential questions.
Where do I come from? What am I here for? How does life work? Where do I go when it’s over?
Tag: <span>dailyprompt</span>
We all have childhood memories triggered by certain smells from a kitchen or the sight of a dish we haven’t seen in a long time. I am no exception. I love the smell of roasted chestnuts or freshly baked apple pie like everybody else. But in my case, it’s much simpler. There is no smell, no sight of cake, torte, or roast that transports me back to my childhood as quickly as a jar of chocolate spread.
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I didn’t hear about her in school, but read about her later, in my early 20s in a book about her remarkable life. I had paid 3 Austrian shillings (fifty cents) for the novel in an old second-hand bookstore in Vienna. The title of the paperback “Theodora, from Prostitute to Empress.”
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Last night, I ate a chocolate-covered pomegranate and I couldn’t help but think about the man who showed me how to enjoy life’s sweet treats, so many years ago. This prompt is perfect to finally pay homage to a man who has been so dear to me.
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As if all muscles were immersed in acid. Like the moment when you step into the void on a staircase in the dark, like a fall into the depths, only inside. Like tiredness that soaks the air. Like “Run!”, but you don’t know where to go, there’s nothing you could or want to run to, and besides, you’re too weak for that. Like a deep moan between the hectic breaths, like a need to sit down now that doesn’t stop, even if you’ve been sitting down for a long time.
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I served sausages, pastries, and mile-high cakes
later I worked in a pub, and gave out beer and liquor.
What an uninteresting question I thought at first, but then, when my thinker started thinking, I realized that my favorite fruits all have a story or trigger memories.
I am an American by choice. I am an Austrian by birth. I have given the privilege to live -and have lived- in countries that give people (still) the right to vote and I am grateful.
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Emojis kill brains. Emojis make you look stupid. And me too. All of us. I think emojis make us all kind of silly.
How big do the consequences have to be to speak of risk? Is it a matter of life and death or just my material security? Is it about the possibility of landing on my behind? Is something risky if it’s just stupid?