I used to search for doors.
Today I wait to see whether one opens.
And if it does not, the garden is beautiful too.
At the end of life, you do not declutter the cellar.
You declutter obligations.
Some things remain anyway.
Dogs, for example.
Time decides about people.
The sentence sounds simple. Perhaps it needs to be read twice.
Because time does not decide quickly.
Not one bad month.
Not one screenshot.
Not one cigarette.
Not one argument.
Time is unpleasantly thorough.
It shows what carries us.
And what was merely being carried.
