A fairy tale about warm light.
A fairy tale about the hundred faces of loneliness.
A reflective fairy tale about your life.
A fairy tale about the Tooth Fairy.
A fairy tale about people and money, with a happy ending.
A fairy tale about sad playgrounds.
A fairy tale about the need for achievement.
A fairy tale about a major artist and a minor artist.
A fairy tale about a city or a town or an island or—God forbid—even a kingdom, to which someone forms a very special and, at least at first sight, inexplicable bond. If the person is lucky enough to go there once, to spend a little time there, to simply wander around and breathe it in, then later, he or she can’t so much as hear its name without feeling the knife twist in the wound; especially since in spite of every good intention (I’ll make a point of learning the local language; we’ll keep in touch, dear friends; I’ll come and visit often—yeah, for sure, very often, naturally; I simply couldn’t have it any other way), life leads him or her away from that place, like from a first love. And that person is ashamed of being powerless to do anything; ashamed of letting life run him or her over time and again. Sometimes, that person even feels like a martyr—which is a much better feeling! But that sense of longing persists above all; an intense longing and a hazy notion that if he or she had been capable, if he or she had gotten the upper hand over fate, then everything would be completely different right now; everything would be much better. That person would be happy.
Life would be beautiful.
A very long fairy tale about jealousy.
A vitally important fairy tale about where and why empathy was lost.
A fairy tale about collaboration, with unsuspected twists. Misunderstandings, misinterpretations, sorry, but no one told me, lags, listen don’t be mad but I actually can’t, loss of interest, bungles, our rhythms simply don’t match, no, I understand, of course, spontaneity is often the key to success, but, well, we should still put some kind of a plan in place, right? As strange as it may seem, the collaborators very often achieve some result, against all odds; something is produced, beauty or order or another thing that lies more towards the plus-side of life is added to the world, notwithstanding. The world is full of miracles?
A fairy tale, the teller of which is prepared for anything, absolutely anything—if only the kid would quit making a racket.
An unusual fairy tale about an absolutely ordinary family. They lived and loved, worked hard to earn their daily bread for the table, fought like cats and dogs on Saturdays, never especially wronged anyone, and died in the end. A beautiful life, in reality; but one that is quite rarely told in fairy tales, for some reason.
A fairy tale about how information technology is always good. Information technology is the utmost expression of progress, the investment for a bright future, the apotheosis of the capability of the human mind, and whoever doesn’t understand that should go throw themselves off a cliff.
A fairy tale about how once, people came together and started looking for the best way to structure society. They searched and they searched, but couldn’t find one. Each one went back to living on his or her own again.
A bitter fairy tale about insults. The positive protagonists get over feeling insulted easily, just like they always get over everything. The negative ones don’t, of course—the insult poisons them, eats away at them, incites them to plot revenge, and takes away their lives and their best years. At the same time, no matter—better half an egg than an empty shell, et cetera. And what’s really the difference—everyone is going to die in the end, anyway. When even the Sun finally goes out.
A fairy tale about a blameless and pure nation’s just rage.
A fairy tale about technological devices that are meant to make things easier, but which strangely make things more and more complicated instead, until the unfortunate user finally ends up utterly confused. This often leads to despair, and in isolated, especially extreme cases, even to depression and suicide.
An appalling fairy tale. One for each.
A fairy tale about how all is not yet lost. And about how even if mankind and the world that surrounds him is lost; if everything that a human knows and perceives in its limitlessness is lost—that then, only a trivial part of everything is actually lost. And if you follow that logic, then everything that is lost should, of course, end up in the place, to which it is lost. So, if it really feels like everything is lost in one place, then in that other place, where everything disappeared to, that same “everything” does very much exist, and, in truth, is even in excess, because it hadn’t even existed in that place before. If I should have to say now which place I’d personally like to be in at this moment, then to tell the truth, I’d be at a loss.
A fairy tale about all the things that shouldn’t be.
A cloud-counting fairy tale.
A fairy tale about good, evil, and nuances.
A fairy tale about white clouds in a summery sky. It’s not really of much use, but it makes living easier somehow. Brighter, even, I’d say.
A fairy tale about the hope that all this crap will end one day.
A fairy tale about a world that changes at such a rapid pace that even the best adaptors to it inevitably lose the ground beneath their feet.
A fairy tale that stretches into infinity about a fairy tale that stretches into infinity.
A real fairy tale.
A fairy tale of all fairy tales.
An out-of-hand fairy tale.
A fairy tale about passion.
A fairy tale about strength.
A fairy tale about serving.
A fairy tale about disavowal.
A fairy tale about lucidity.
A fairy tale.
