My phone tells stories: Guten Morgen Berlin

Writing about Berlin is tricky and a dumb idea (I’m still gonna do it). But writing about Berlin is also writing about yourself because the city couldn’t care less about what you think about it. It’s up to you have to make it work between the two of you … and then hope for the best.

When I came here first for a couple of months two years ago, I felt uncomfortable, like I’m not fitting in. Whatever I was doing just didn’t feel enough because there was always someone who was better at it. And there still is but this time, it’s okay.

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So this year, things are different. This year I came with little to no expectation, with a Lebanon-shaped hole in my heart and very few precise plans. Six weeks in, I already dread the day I have to move out of my cosy room. Since coming here, my intake of alcohol has increased, the amount of hours I sleep has gone down. The fun I’ve been having is bigger than the two curves put together and somehow, this thing between Berlin and me seems to be working out this time. And I think that is precisely because I’ve changed, not the city.

I (sometimes) know who I am and where I wanna go in life now, so the nonchalant air of Berlin almost broadens my perspective and makes me wanna try new things. I’m sure some people would disagree with me on this, but in my experience you need to have your life together of some sort to not get destroyed by the city’s and its people’s constant search for an identity.

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I love the guys who sit outside of my house at the Späti next door and have the same beer-and-bread breakfast every morning. I love how people here are up for anything and that bit more spontaneous than London people (no offense). The only thing that seriously sucks is winter and the collective grumpiness that comes with it – but that’s not Berlin’s fault.

To fill you in about the pictures here and to give these losely arranged thoughts some purpose, I went to Cabslam in Neukölln, Café Valentin in Kreuzberg, Mauerpark, the momentous 25-year anniversary of the fall of the wall, to gigs in a living room, and the beautiful streets that were dipped in autumn sun and colours – aaand the Algarve, Portugal. But more on that trip another time.

Here’s the song from the headline: Guten Morgen Berlin, du kannst so hässlich sein. ♥

7 responses to My phone tells stories: Guten Morgen Berlin

  1. J.

    Hey, I was there the day of the wall anniversary. After almost 1 year in Brazil I was curious how I’d feel in Berlin again – and I still didn’t like it. On Sunday we went for brunch to Butter in Prenzl.Berg and the cafe was packed with people, most of them kind of dolled up. But when other girls looked at me or at other girls I could see they are thinking like “She does not have much thinner legs than me, so that’s good. But she’s got nicer hair than I do. Why cannot I have wavy blond hair?” and I realized I picked up another way of thinking in Brazil – “She’s got muscular legs like me, so she probably likes riding her bike or has a busy job with a lot of running around – so we have something in common”. I left after 3 weeks searching for a city that would be a better match for me now. I have a lot of things to fight for (and against), no powers left to constantly keep in mind the city’s search for ego must not get me…You have fun though!

    • Caroline Schmitt – Author

      Whoa that does sound like a super strange experience! Glad you found a city that’s more like home. All the best 🙂

  2. Your pics are amazing. The words as well. When I came in Berlin for the first (and the only) time three years ago, I was amazed. I love that city, it’s not easy to describe, it just changes you. I don’t know how… but this happened to me. And now, even if I live in London and, yeah London is amazing… sometimes I compare it with Berlin. And Berlin wins, all the time.

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