Here I am, back again. After 3 days in the very pleasant Hamburg, watching the world go by in 1930s coffee houses full of queers, I've now finally (and via Munich - don't ask) made it to Berlin, for what seems to have become my Annual Fix. I hanker for this place, there's something about it that offers sanctuary and a chance for complete anonymity. Maybe that's partly the language element, but there's definitely more to it. It caters for every mood, and can change in the beat of a heart, turning a corner from one area to another. But what am I afterright now? That's the question. Obviously it invloves being swept off my feet, but as the chances of that happening right now are slim, I'll settle for a wander through the night time streets.
Berlin produces such a muddle of emotions in me that I often think it really reflects me back at myself better than anywhere, anyone or anything else. I remember I felt at home immediately, but I have also experienced physically paralysing self doubt here. Again, some of that comes down to the language, but more than that I was (at times) almost scared of myself. I've had the most debauched times here, been freer than I ever thought possible, but I have also imposed such limitation on myself it's unbelievable. I am - was - quite embarrassed about my first ever weekend here. Now I look back on it and think: look how much you've grown up since then.
Then there are the people I've met here and those I often think of when I'm here.. Willy, Karolina, Catharina, Dana.. I want to tell all the stories connected to these people, so I'll come back when the counter isn't ticking away. And now Love Fool is playing on the stereo, and my thoughts are with The Other again. Sums me up pretty well at the moment. Ahh...solitude: how dangerous you are.
