And in the end, there’s nothing left inside, just a big brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
270. | I hear differently
The same metal is playing. The same anger. The same desires. Only inside me, completely different captions are born next to the words I hear.
266. | My Little Book of Tales
I spent 41 days collecting discarded playing cards on the roads of Asia. In the end, I found not only a deck, but also a unique book of tales.
259. | Meditation – a path on my journey
Meditation has become part of my journey. A little path I take every day. Simply. Just being.
256. | The sour apple stolen in silence
Another story about a journey that connects not only places, but also feelings. Short, yet profound moments that remain with us in silence.
252. | Come home!
There are shelves in my life that I rarely go to. I just dusted one of them a little. It was no accident.
251. | Dust In The Wind
Instead of two sides, I chose the edge. The moment appears and disappears – and I have learned to let go. Maybe this is true freedom.
243. | I don’t expect anything. That way I can find everything.
I expect nothing. I find everything. That’s how everything becomes within me from nothing.
239. | Officially fifty
I wanted to spend my 50th birthday alone. However, a Lao family firmly prevented this.
238. | Why here? Why not there?
I could be happy anywhere. Even in Hungary. But right now I’m testing this theory somewhere else.