View previous topic :: View next topic |
Author |
Message |
Expedition Contributions
Joined: 20 Jul 2005 Posts: 47
|
Posted: Tue Apr 11, 2006 7:05 pm Post subject: Seattle 04 |
|
|
 |
|
Back to top |
|
 |
AJLudwig
Joined: 21 Mar 2006 Posts: 2
|
Posted: Fri Apr 14, 2006 8:20 pm Post subject: Hoping for sunny days |
|
|
I wish we had such nice weather, just like in the painting. The trees are in bloom, the sun is shining and people are actually able to lie on the grass. Whereas here in Germany it's pouring, it's freezing and very very windy. I hope by the time our seminar starts we'll be able to feel the springtime-flair.
amanda |
|
Back to top |
|
 |
staffehl
Joined: 20 Mar 2006 Posts: 7
|
Posted: Mon May 08, 2006 12:34 am Post subject: Re: Hoping for sunny days |
|
|
AJLudwig wrote: | I wish we had such nice weather, just like in the painting. The trees are in bloom, the sun is shining and people are actually able to lie on the grass. Whereas here in Germany it's pouring, it's freezing and very very windy. I hope by the time our seminar starts we'll be able to feel the springtime-flair.
amanda | This makes me almost breath the fresh air and feel the sun on my skin. |
|
Back to top |
|
 |
staffehl
Joined: 20 Mar 2006 Posts: 7
|
Posted: Fri May 12, 2006 6:07 pm Post subject: Re: Seattle 04 |
|
|
Expedition Contributions wrote: |  |
Seattle 4: A New Rebirth?
A man, call him Peter, had decided to break the circle. What circle, you might ask. Well, the circle of life.
With the changing of seasons, he had found out, his life had also made turns. But although it therefore appeared to be quite varied, at a closer look, he recognized, was it just an annual repetition.
Spring had turned to summer, autumn had turned to winter, and winter had again turned to spring.
Vitality – Happiness – melancholy – sadness. Rebirth.
In the last of these unities, as he now called them for himself, something new had happened to him. First, like in every circle, nature had been reborn. The rosy blossoms of the trees not only fulfilled the air with their honey-like smell, but also created a wonderful colourful world for the eye. The sun gave warmth and light to the world, the ear was given pleasure by the singing of the birds and humming of the bees. And in this lively atmosphere had he met her.
Rosy her cheek, rosy his thoughts and his view.
Summer then had captured them with all its heat. Something he had never experienced before had taken hold of him with all its power. No doubts, no thoughts. This was absolutely new and absolutely good. Everything had been so clear to him:
Blue sky, green trees, yellow sun, red love. Blue were her eyes, green was her dress, yellow her smile and true their love. The months of the summer passed by like one single moment in time. He had tasted a new life. Love did complete him.
But as summer had changed to autumn in secret, also silent the thing he called love for himself had changed.
While in the world the light disappeared, in his world a secret came to light. To yellow had turned the leaves of the trees – yellow had also become the former red of their love. Insecurity and distrust had replaced truth and warmth. What had happened, he had asked. I don’t know, she had answered.
The leaves still had formed part of the trees but there was no doubt that they would leave in time. And so it had been sure that they would part although it still seemed as they belonged to each other.
But when winter arrived with its blistering cold, she had already been gone. The snow that had hung in the trees had replaced the dying leaves. Alone he was, but his thoughts became to be clear, like the cold air and the black nights.
And still alone he was, although now the branches of the trees again shared their existence with rosy blossoms. Light was the day, blue was the sky and green now the lawn and the bushes. And to light turned his thoughts.
Like nature, he thought, his life had completed something, a major circle. But there was some major difference, he thought. The colour of the trees would again turn from rosy to green and then to yellow and finally to death and then rebirth. He had accompanied nature in its circle for all his life. Like nature’s change of seasons was his change of emotions and state of being. Vitality – happiness – melancholy – sadness. Rebirth. Vitality – happiness – melancholy – sadness. Rebirth...
But during the last circle, he had the impression that his life had changed completely. This new experience, these new feelings and emotions. And still, he had not been able to carry spring and summer during autumn and winter; or to part from nature.
But the time to part had come. Like nature, something inside him had died and been reborn. His individual rebirth included a new way of thinking, maybe a new circle that he was about to begin. Live floated through his veins again, again was it easy for him to breath and freedom again replaced his former oppression. Like in the units, as he called them, before. But why should he now not be able to start something new? What had changed inside him?
He had distanced himself from his former self. Time had helped him. By the change of the seasons, he had recognized that time had passed. The regular validity of life had made him weak and stupid-minded. Love had broken this ban and shown him the possibility to be aware of living again. Love had not made him complete but had been a sign that led him to his own personal balance. He had to make the next step on his own. And as nature had died and been reborn, he had come to this conclusion step by step. While the trees came to life, he had learned to respect himself and live again.
He had recognized that he did not need her, but be more aware of his own life and personality again. He still was with nature. But if there was any time to part from it than it was now. Spring with its blossoms and life to him always had been the climax of the circles, therefore he had to go and find his own way now. The beauty of the trees made it hard to turn away, but also gave him the energy he needed. He glanced at the trees and, in his mind, gave them an official farewell.
It was time for him to part and so the reborn Peter, as we call him, finally broke the circle of life and his own imprisonment; and left.
And still, by choosing the time of spring for his own rebirth, wasn’t he about to complete the circle again? |
|
Back to top |
|
 |
Clarion
Joined: 12 May 2006 Posts: 10 Location: Mainz
|
Posted: Sun May 14, 2006 1:16 pm Post subject: Fade Out |
|
|
Fade Out
Students in their last term are thin and long and stretched, fading out at the edges and sometimes, if you sit and watch them for long enough, you can see strands of human fabric drift off and disappear. There goes the soul and you can only pray that once they’ve got the diploma in their hands, these will serve as magnets, pulling the strands back and making their poor souls full and whole again.
It scares me. |
|
Back to top |
|
 |
Fernsprechteilnehmer
Joined: 05 Apr 2006 Posts: 7
|
Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 12:44 am Post subject: |
|
|
The Cherry Trees are in Bloom
The backpack was almost falling apart. The headband, fashionable twenty years ago, was just a piece of ragged cloth. The guitar case was still quite fine. The cherry trees are in bloom, he thought. No other thought followed. But he kept repeating it to himself, like a mantra, as if more layers of meaning could be unveiled by endless repetition, the cherry trees are in bloom, the cherry trees are in bloom; the cherry trees are in bloom: the cherry trees. Are in bloom. His brain shook the sentence to and fro, tore it apart, put it back together; nothing happened. He kept on walking. Another thought appeared: Julie. Again, his brain was busy for a while. Julie. The thought absorbed him completely. Julie. He couldn’t think of why he thought that thought. The concept was nothing but an empty shell. J-U-L-I-E. He reached the end of the park. What to do now? Julie. He trudged back, not knowing what else to do. Julie. A sudden image, long gone by before he could hold it tight. Déjà-vu. He knew he had had that thought before. But he didn’t know what to make of it.
He passed the cherry trees once more. A sudden thought came to his mind: The cherry trees are in bloom. No other thought followed. But he kept repeating it to himself, like a mantra, as if more layers of meaning could be unveiled by endless repetition, the cherry trees are in bloom, the cherry trees are in bloom; the cherry trees are in bloom: the cherry trees. Are in bloom. There were people lying on the lawn, chatting, sunbathing, reading. He didn’t pay attention to them. He kept on walking. He reached the other end of the park. What am I to do now? He turned about and walked back again. There were people lying on the lawn, reading, sunbathing, chatting, but he didn’t pay attention to what they said:
“Do you know this guy?”
“No. Who is it? I was wondering. He’s always walking up and down. Up and down. Without ever looking left and right.”
“He’s always here.”
“Every day?”
“Every single day. Always the same dress: headband, backpack, guitar case.”
“Is he homeless?”
“I don’t think so. He’s always here at the same time of day. Like a train. But he’s never sleeping here, or spending the afternoon.”
“For how long has he been coming here?”
“Twenty years, I’ve been told.”
“Twenty years? What happened to him? What made him become like this?”
“Well, there was an old man who always used to sit at the bench over there. He told me the story of this guy some time ago. That’s how the story goes: Way back in time the guy with the guitar case was having a walk here in the park with his girlfriend. Twenty years ago. In spring, about that time of the year. They were walking up and down, like he does now, talking about love or future or whatever. Everything was normal. Then the girlfriend suddenly disappeared. He was talking, not looking up, before suddenly realising that his girlfriend was no longer there to listen to him. No one knows if she disappeared voluntarily. In an instant she was gone and it was never found out what she did or what has happened to her.
He has been here every day ever since, trying to find her. Always wearing the same clothes. Always carrying his backpack and his guitar case. Because he hopes this way she must recognise him. But nobody has talked to the guy for some years, I believe. And the old man is dead by now.”
“Twenty years.”
“Mhm. Must be especially hard for him now, now that the cherry trees are in bloom again.”
Last edited by Fernsprechteilnehmer on Wed May 17, 2006 12:57 am; edited 1 time in total |
|
Back to top |
|
 |
Miriam Kuroszczyk
Joined: 21 Mar 2006 Posts: 14
|
Posted: Tue May 16, 2006 9:10 am Post subject: |
|
|
Lunchtime
“What is life on a rainy day when you hate rainy days?”, Betsey Mallberg asks her students. “Is it a day full of crazy, liquid drops jumping from the sky like suicides worth nothing and killing you or is it a good day ‘cause you don’t have to water your garden?”, she continues while walking through the newly renovated lecture hall.
No answer. Maybe the students are tired or lazy or just dump. Who knows. Mallberg opens up a new can of beans: “what if our God was a holy cookie?”
Plain dismay in the students’ faces –
certainly not.
“If it consisted of unhealthy or even poisonous ingredients, would you eat it? Yes, for it is my holy cookie and hence I would do everything the holy cookie tells me, one could argue. No, for it would kill me, one could argue, as well. Now, what would you choose, you, there in the back, with the yellow shirt…how would you act? Would you stay with your cookie or continue living? Maybe without any cookie or a different one… now, tell me your opinion on that”. “Hm”, the yellow shirt starts pondering; “maybe I would eat the cookie and then go to the doctor and get good medicine”. “Alright”, Mallberg says. “But you need to consider that once you eat the holy and unhealthy cookie, maybe then call it simply unholy cookie, anyways, if you eat the cookie, you’re dead. Period”. “Hm”, a blue sweater voices his remark, “hmmm -, probably you don’t have to eat the cookie at all. You know, why eat this damn cookie? Ain’t it plain fine if we have this holy cookie just around, ya know, don’t touch it, don’t steal it, don’t eat it – wouldn’t everyone be happy then? And the chicks mustn’t eat sweets anyways or they’ll stay virgins and turn into spinsters; yeah, then again, they could eat cookies. Cool. And – if ya hate rainy days, just move to O.C… See, no problem at all”.
He smiles, the bell rings and the students head for lunch. Fish, baked beans and potatoes, cookies for dessert. Would you eat it? |
|
Back to top |
|
 |
Ashley Guest
|
|
Back to top |
|
 |
Charles Guest
|
|
Back to top |
|
 |
Ashley Guest
|
|
Back to top |
|
 |
Sandra Guest
|
|
Back to top |
|
 |
Lori Guest
|
|
Back to top |
|
 |
Robert Guest
|
|
Back to top |
|
 |
David Guest
|
|
Back to top |
|
 |
None Guest
|
Posted: Sat Nov 04, 2006 2:55 pm Post subject: wazzup |
|
|
xoomxoomxooom xngdjfyx <a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/bukkake.html">reverse bukkake</a> reverse bukkake|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/ass.html">ass fucking videos</a> ass fucking videos|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/anal.html">milf anal</a> milf anal|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/adult.html">adult flash games</a> adult flash games|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/boys.html">teen gay boys</a> teen gay boys|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/busty.html">plump busty</a> plump busty|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/babes.html">fat babes</a> fat babes|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/boobs.html">sucking boobs</a> sucking boobs|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/brunette.html">naked brunettes</a> naked brunettes|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/beach.html">nude beach pictures</a> nude beach pictures|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/cartoon.html">simpson sex cartoons</a> simpson sex cartoons|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/amateur.html">homemade amateur sex videos</a> homemade amateur sex videos|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/bisexual.html">bisexual stories</a> bisexual stories|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/asian.html">free asian sex clips</a> free asian sex clips|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/butt.html">butt</a> butt|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/bondage.html">gay leather bondage</a> gay leather bondage|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/anime.html">anime hentai sexo</a> anime hentai sexo|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/black.html">huge black ass</a> huge black ass|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/bikini.html">g strings bikini girls</a> g strings bikini girls|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/bdsm.html">cartoons bdsm</a> cartoons bdsm|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/celebrity.html">free celebrity sex</a> free celebrity sex|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/blondes.html">blondes naked</a> blondes naked|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/blowjob.html">teachers giving blowjobs</a> teachers giving blowjobs|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/bbw.html">black bbw mature nude</a> black bbw mature nude|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/bukkake.html">reverse bukkake</a> reverse bukkake|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/ass.html">ass fucking videos</a> ass fucking videos|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/anal.html">milf anal</a> milf anal|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/adult.html">adult flash games</a> adult flash games|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/boys.html">teen gay boys</a> teen gay boys|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/busty.html">plump busty</a> plump busty|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/babes.html">fat babes</a> fat babes|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/boobs.html">sucking boobs</a> sucking boobs|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/brunette.html">naked brunettes</a> naked brunettes|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/beach.html">nude beach pictures</a> nude beach pictures|<a href="http://xoomer.virgilio.it/presshttpew/cartoon.html">simpson sex cartoons</a> simpson sex cartoons| |
|
Back to top |
|
 |
|
|
You cannot post new topics in this forum You cannot reply to topics in this forum You cannot edit your posts in this forum You cannot delete your posts in this forum You cannot vote in polls in this forum
|
Powered by phpBB © 2001, 2005 phpBB Group
|