Berlin Blue

I can’t sleep here so I thought I’d say hello. Long day today and the hangover which kicked in about 8pm rid me of words. Which was a problem as Linden introduced to the art-house glitterati of Berlin. Lots musicians, singers, photographers, comedic actresses who are magnificently over-dressed and under shaved. Two men in berets as well. You know the type. Cashmere scarfs and cigarettes barely smoked as they opine the world. I muddled through after remembering and getting a kick from a full fat coke.

Linden sang well tonight. She always can. But she also played some guitar after only learning for a month. She has about 3 chords but had the balls to get on stage and play them even if the chord changes were a touch laboured. I suppose it was endearing! Certainly her group of male acolytes gets bigger every day which makes my position curious to them.

My malcontent was self-induced as normal. Too much straight vodka and too little food. My usual combination. But seeing Anissa, a French friend from Paris and hanging out with Linden in a bar/club place was the right introduction to Berlin. It’s an odd city for Europe. A capital city that lacks grandiosity and pretensions. Its visual greyness is enlivened only by the ubiquitous graffiti and shadow lighting of the cafes. Like its reputation, most of Berlin’s good work happens under ground. And down there is the much light.

I could barely focus though by 10. And around midnight, my mind closed for the night. Its 2:28am now. I am in bed and writing to you. Its -11C and I am hugging the radiator though. Waiting for tomorrow to come.

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