Distant thoughts of days long lost I wander through the annals of my life’s memory
Flipping through the pages I cross over stones whose ruff edges have long been smoothed by the passage of time
Skipping stones now…
The ones that comprise the soft bed for the river of my life that flows over it,
Small in comparison to the boulders that rest in the waters now as the waves lap,
Ferociously,
At their surface in hopes,
That they too will one day become skipping stones
Schnall dich an und schnapp dir deinen Schutzhelm Einleitung: Die Illusion der Gewinnbarkeit Stell dir…