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When was the last time a story has drawn you in so much that you forgot everything that surrounded you, no…that you believed that that which the story displayed was uniquely tailored for you?

When was the last time you discovered a story that did not get out of your head and became the first thing you thought of when waking up and the last thing before going to bed?

When was the last time an artist managed to make you believe…that a character became so real you knew he existed? Do you know when?

It is during that moment when you become immune against critics. When judgements of any other people become irrelevant and dissolve in front of your eyes.

When you realize that this thing, this passion, this message is completely yours and no one would ever be able to take it away from you. You can try to distance yourself from it but your inability to escape gets clearer with every step…

Until you realize that you do not want to distance yourself from it. The story becomes a symbol for something triggered deep inside of yourself. You are not supposed to hold back. You are supposed to embrace it With everything you have.

I don’t vocalize the word often It almost always feels exaggerated and looses its meaning Unless, Unless it flows easily from my lips. Unnoticed but natural. I draw the letters of the word in my mind Slowly but determined:


My. It is my story. My emotional baggage and enrichment. My life. My favorite metaphor which
turns out not to be a metaphor at all. My artistic taste. My frustration. My lack of talent. My tears. My passion.


Another. Another scene. Another side story. Another close up. Another impressive way of saying the ,no, of screaming the message at me and everyone else. Another shaking. Another attempt. Another whisper: Keep going.


Symbiotic. The relation between you an the medium. You need it to live. It needs you to be seen in an angle that no one else could perceive. You are nourishing each other.


Triumphant. To see how far you came. Tyler Durden was wrong. You stopped being a consumer. You were reborn. You were, you are part of everything that happens, the books – dissolved, the drawings – gone, the screen? – no traces left. You were there. When everything happened and you’ve risen to heighths and you don’t want to leave.


Example. The perfect example for the influence an artistic medium can have on you. The perfect example to express the same feelings in a way that makes you question HOW. That leaves you astonished. Astonishedly smiling.


Reason. To think and overthink. To change. To speak. Speak up for yourself and others. Reason to express. Express how you feel. Reason to discover what and where and who. Reason to enjoy the feeling while accepting the lack of the answers.


Pursuit. Of what is ahead of you. Pursuit of happiness. Fulfillment. Pursuit of your ungraspable identity. Pursuit of what matters.


I am still in awe. And will always be. Because there is only this one piece that will make you tremble and sob and cry but in the end will make you find your peace.

E – ntertainingly

And that will make you try to hold on to


and Chase this essential, elaborate, expressive, emotional thing

E – ternally.

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