Vor drei Wochen wurde es in meiner Wohnung auf einmal ein bisschen lebendiger. Gardinenstangen, Spiegel und Bilderrahmen brachten sich von selbst an und auf einmal gabs statt Tiefkühlpizza richtiges Essen (meistens Suppe mit irgendetwas undefinierbarem, voll dekadent). Vor drei Wochen sind Emin und Nouri bei mir eingezogen. Ich wachte eines Morgens auf (die großen Erkenntnisse kommen meistens um Punkt 7 und fordern sofortiges Handeln) und es erschien mir grundfalsch und grundabsurd und grundbeschissen, dass diese doch ziemlich große Wohnung den halben, aber meistens den ganzen Tag leersteht, während Menschen in meinem Alter vor dem LaGeSo auf Bürgersteigen und in Parks schlafen. Das darf nicht sein.
Berlin is one rainy, gloomy and caffeinated place at the moment and I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. If the days weren’t so madly packed, I’d finally have the perfect excuse to wile away in cafés and get lost in a book or two. The truth is though that since coming back from Interrailing, the only pages my eyes glanced over were the morning newspaper’s or a couple of magazines. So this is a bit of a subtle reminder for myself to make some more time for literary lovelies before bedtime. Here’s a list of books I’ve read while Serbian or Macedonian countryside rushed past, of audio books that helped me fall asleep (clearly not the purpose of an audio book, is it?), or heavier reads that I started six months ago and somehow struggle to finish. Nearly half of that stack is in German, so this will be a bilingual post (the first, I think?). Läuft bei euch.
What’s the perfect summer day? It could be white sandy beaches, huge palm trees, turquoise waves… just like that ancient Windows desktop background image. Or maybe perfect is something you can’t plan, something a little absurd, something so unexpected and out of the ordinary that you struggle to believe it really happened the morning after. And maybe sometimes perfect is the most ordinary of all things. Anyway. Perfect is this, perfect are these guys and perfect are the waves we jumped into a few weeks ago.
Somewhere between 2014 and 2015, I decided to go freelance overnight. In other words, I decided to make a living by putting some letters together and taking the camera everywhere I go. My own business. At 22. You know how sometimes people say they’ve had this big thing on their heart and were patiently waiting for the right time to make it happen? Well, I’ve never had that. The opportunity just presented itself because the most amazing team I’ve ever worked with (I love you guys!) offered me some regular work, then another magazine job came up and I suddenly knew being serious about this was the only logical thing to do. I didn’t have the slightest idea of what I would get myself into (and I still don’t have), and it’s both shittier and greater than I imagined. That by the way is the kind of thing I hope to say about life one day! So here’s some random advice in case you’re in a similar situation, in case you’re bored with your day job, finished uni or just feel like making a big change.
Something very weird is going on right now. And my eyes are a little watery whilst writing this, but I feel like I’ve come home. Whoosh. That may be down to the fact that I’ve moved into my own flat, but most probably it’s for all the people around me who are just there in all the highs and lows, and I’m endlessly grateful (soppy post to follow!) for that. Home. So that’s a little weird. My heart starts beating when I open the lock and enter, somehow settling down (well, at least for a year or two) feels oh so radical. My passport will still always be at the ready though… and it has been over the last three months. Here’s what I got up to.
Here’s what my phone says about the last couple of months: It’s been a mild winter but I probably say that because I expected the worst (thunderstorms and darkness for three months) when coming to Berlin and listening to people’s winter tales. If there was snow, it was crisp and refreshing. If there was sun, it made for some beautiful sunsets at Bornholmer Straße (home).
I woke up on New Year’s Eve to a beautiful washed-out blue sky (is that a colour?), with no hangover and a huge breakfast waiting. That pretty much set the tone for 2015.
Before spring came to town this week, some lovely friends helped me find Teufelsberg Field Station in Berlin. I had been to Grunewald forest a couple of times before but due to a severe lack of any sense of direction (and phone reception) my camera and I never actually made it up there. As per usual.
Teufelsberg hill is built on a load of rubbish from World War II which only makes it that bit creepier. There’s a beautiful panorama view over Berlin, well, there would be if not for the building cranes and construction works. But that’s Berlin for ya. ♥