This week a haze has descended on me, it is easier to stay in bed safe in the folds of my duvet, light diffused by clouds and screens, maybe to… give in. I took this haze to Alexanderplatz and then on the S7 to Warschauerstr, punks with face piercings begging for change, always with a schön tag for any coins, politeness and a smile. Was I ever that?
I meant to visit Revalerstr for weeks, Der Kegel having the cheapest climbing and bouldering I’ve yet discovered, and knowing how much I shall suffer, still I miss that exhilaration. I wandered the street until it became grasslands, abandoned and fenced, then fenceless, almost like me, giving up, the road a suggestion of direction, though it couldn’t care less. Where had the city gone? Oh, what does it matter? Here you can collapse into the long, long grass and embraced, become a banquet. If I kept going, just past that slight curve which eats the edge of the road I shall be vanished. It is the end of the world somewhere near here.
So I turn. Always too shy to go a little further, where the openness closes down to one door, a single entrance, here I find my carelessness, my delicious need for losing myself is overtaken. And here is a whole part of Berlin yet unknown, RAW Tempel, and then I wonder of everything from here to Frankfurter Allee. Instead I take the U line across the bridge, suspended between windows and trees, coiling though where? I have no names, I remember an apartment stacked like an artist’s studio, I see someone through the glass, or imagine remembering I do. I keep going, I want this line to be endless. Near Orainenstr again I disembark, searching for bread, coffee, books, things, making tangible something I can’t describe. i have moments of such contentment, as if Berlin is cradling me.
