A small Swiss town, a river running through its centre: A green river through a red town. Fast and slow at once; ancient and modern.
Every time I feel comfortable in a friendship group, it all falls apart, and I learn that I was never one of their friends after all.
I am not going to sit here in my ivory tower of intellectual detachment and tell people to “get over it”. Do not get over it. You will never get over it.
The world is such a deep and intricate place. I wish I could even begin to describe the beauty every moment carries, and then lets go. I can’t, so I won’t.