Saturday, 1 October 2016


The sea. The sea. The sea.
Wasn't it me standing at your coast two days ago, Mediterranean sea, about
to plunge into your flood?
With this childish happiness in my heart, freedom felt at the sea is somehow
Floating in the water on my back, moved by your waves, late summer's sun
shining on my face.

The sea. The sea. The sea.
One minute. "The sea". Letter for letter spelled out. „T. H. E.  S. E. A.“

„The sea is hell. Just hell.“
My counterpart - We met just one week ago - is telling me about his journey
 over the Mediterranean Sea. We are playing cards.
About his hell, it happened in February 2016. „On the left side of the boat in
the back. One leg in the water, one in the boat.
 Around 150 people.“ Until the moment of being rescued he didn't even know
about the existence of a country called Italy.

Mediterranen Sea, from this day on I will stand at your coastal lines in a
different way, your saltwater will feel so different on my skin.

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