Back home

Bike is near, laying near a stone bench. Tilt over the Johanniter bridge I can only breath in the flowing Rhine and the souverain Münster and hope to never forget to
stop
from time to time.

Its harder and harder to express myself through words. They come and go and even if I mind write them in a form of a virtual journal I tend to forget them as soon as the life goes on. As I tend to forget people, or places. I am often reminded that I have a bad memory and only the repetition of a story, a feeling or an event can refresh my memories.

How nice will be that at a certain age to be able to live only the moments that gave us joy and wonder. My only fear lies that I might not remember those moments and sadly I dont even have the fantasy to recreate them in my own way.

Maybe thats why my mind is repeating this song for the last 4 days, from the moment I was on the bus ride from the airport to Pedro's place... When I relived and remembered my yoyo years in Basel.

Basel, my sweet joy bike rides.
My sweet hug.
My sweet doodie.
My sweet cari.
My sweet trap.