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“6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
Blurred out lines
from hangovers
to coffee
Another vagabond
lost to love.
4am alone and on my way.
These are my finest moments.
I scrub my skin
to rid me from
you
and I still don’t know why I cried.
It was just something in the way you took my heart and rearranged my insides and I couldn’t recognise the emptiness you left me with when you were done. Maybe you thought my insides would fit better this way, look better this way, to you and us and all the rest.
But then you must have changed your mind
or made a wrong
because why did you
leave?
6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
I replace cafés with crowded bars and empty roads with broken bottles
and this town is healing me slowly but still not slow or fast enough because there’s no right way to do this.
There is no right way to do this.
There is no right way to do this.”
― Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
Blurred out lines
from hangovers
to coffee
Another vagabond
lost to love.
4am alone and on my way.
These are my finest moments.
I scrub my skin
to rid me from
you
and I still don’t know why I cried.
It was just something in the way you took my heart and rearranged my insides and I couldn’t recognise the emptiness you left me with when you were done. Maybe you thought my insides would fit better this way, look better this way, to you and us and all the rest.
But then you must have changed your mind
or made a wrong
because why did you
leave?
6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
I replace cafés with crowded bars and empty roads with broken bottles
and this town is healing me slowly but still not slow or fast enough because there’s no right way to do this.
There is no right way to do this.
There is no right way to do this.”
― Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving
“I woke up early and took the first train to take me away from the city. The noise and all its people. I was alone on the train and had no idea where I was going, and that’s why I went there. Two hours later we arrived in a small town, one of those towns with one single coffee shop and where everyone knows each other’s name. I walked for a while until I found the water, the most peaceful place I know. There I sat and stayed the whole day, with nothing and everything on my mind, cleaning my head. Silence, I learned, is some times the most beautiful sound.”
―
―
“It’s the beating of my heart.
The way I lie awake, playing with shadows slowly climbing up my wall. The gentle moonlight slipping through my window and the sound of a lonely car somewhere far away, where I long to be too, I think. It’s the way I thought my restless wandering was over, that I’d found whatever I thought I had found, or wanted, or needed, and I started to collect my belongings. Build a home. Safe behind the comfort of these four walls and a closed door.
Because as much as I tried or pretended or imagined myself as a part of all the people out there,
I was still the one locking the door every night.
Turning off the phone and blowing out the candles so no one knew I was home.
’cause I was never really well around the expectations of my personality
and I wanted to keep to myself.
and because I haven’t been very impressed lately.
By people,
or places.
Or the way someone said he loved me and then slowly changed his mind.”
― Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving
The way I lie awake, playing with shadows slowly climbing up my wall. The gentle moonlight slipping through my window and the sound of a lonely car somewhere far away, where I long to be too, I think. It’s the way I thought my restless wandering was over, that I’d found whatever I thought I had found, or wanted, or needed, and I started to collect my belongings. Build a home. Safe behind the comfort of these four walls and a closed door.
Because as much as I tried or pretended or imagined myself as a part of all the people out there,
I was still the one locking the door every night.
Turning off the phone and blowing out the candles so no one knew I was home.
’cause I was never really well around the expectations of my personality
and I wanted to keep to myself.
and because I haven’t been very impressed lately.
By people,
or places.
Or the way someone said he loved me and then slowly changed his mind.”
― Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving
“Nobody had forgotten anything here. In Berlin, you had to wrestle with the past, you had to build on the ruins, inside them. It wasn't like America where we scraped the earth clean, thinking we could start again every time. ”
― White Oleander
― White Oleander
“6 months, 2 weeks, 4 days,
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
Blurred out lines
from hangovers
to coffee
another vagabond
lost to love.”
―
and I still don’t know which month it was then
or what day it is now.
Blurred out lines
from hangovers
to coffee
another vagabond
lost to love.”
―
“Es ist nicht leicht in Berlin, und das Leben fordert den ganzen Menschen. Das Jahr geht vom Winterschlaf in die Frühjahrsmüdigkeit, von der Frühjahrsmüdigkeit ins Sommerloch, vom Sommerloch in die Herbstdepression und dann direkt in den Winterschlaf über - und zwischendurch gibt's Momente, die sind gut.”
― Das schöne Leben
― Das schöne Leben
“If we lose sight of pleasures and luxuries that intoxicate the senses in the most sensuous and beautiful and simplest of ways, then we`ve lost a lot.”
― Bumped to Berlin
― Bumped to Berlin
“Ich versuche mir vorzustellen, wie es wäre, wenn mir dies Erleben zum ersten Mal auf solche Art zuteil geworden wäre. Ich muß den Gedanken abbremsen, so was ist nicht vorstellbar. Eines ist klar: Wäre an dem Mädchen irgendwann in Friedenszeiten durch einen herumstreunenden Kerl die Notzucht verübt worden, wäre hinterher das übliche Friedensbrimborium von Anzeige, Protokoll, Vernehmung, ja von Verhaftung und Gegenüberstellung, Zeitungsbericht und Nachbarngetue gewesen – das Mädel hätte anders reagiert, hätte einen anderen Schock davongetragen. Hier aber handelt es sich um ein Kollektiv-Erlebnis, vorausgewußt, viele Male vorausbefürchtet – um etwas, das den Frauen links und rechts und nebenan zustieß, das gewissermaßen dazu gehörte. Diese kollektive Massenform der Vergewaltigung wird auch kollektiv überwunden werden. Jede hilft jeder, indem sie darüber spricht, sich Luft macht, der anderen Gelegenheit gibt sich Luft zu machen, das Erlittene auszuspeien. Was natürlich nicht ausschließt, das feinere Organismen als diese abgebrühte Berliner Göre daran zerbrechen oder doch auf Lebenszeit einen Knacks davontragen.”
― A Woman in Berlin: Eight Weeks in the Conquered City: A Diary
― A Woman in Berlin: Eight Weeks in the Conquered City: A Diary
“Allen Westberlinern war gemeinsam, dass sie nur selten den Ostteil der Stadt besuchten. Der Eintritt nach Ostberlin war mit fünfundzwanzig D-Mark einfach zu teuer. Zwar erhielt man im Gegenzug fünfundzwanzig Ostmark, aber es fand sich weit und breit keine Möglichkeit, das Ostgeld auszugeben. An der Grenze wurde man unhöflich behandelt und wenn man bis Mitternacht nicht wieder zurück war, musste man nochmal fünfundzwanzig Mark bezahlen.”
―
―
“Einmal hatte ich ein Jobangebot. Es wäre ein super Job gewesen. Aber ich ziehe aus Berlin nicht weg. Ich bin nicht flexibel. Lieber bin ich der Depp von Berlin als der König der Könige in Mährisch-Ostrau. Ich liebe diese Stadt, der Himmel sei mein Zeuge. Ich liebe ihre Versifftheit. Ich knie nieder vor dem schlichten Humor ihrer übergriffigen Bewohner, ich neige mein Haupt vor ihren Bausünden, ich küsse die Füße ihre korrupten Elite, ich werfe mich in den Staub vor ihren Drogen- und Etatproblemen und flechte Kränze für die Habgier ihrer Finanzämter.”
― Männer sind wie Pfirsiche
― Männer sind wie Pfirsiche
“Auf die sinkenden Umsätze reagiert die BVG souverän mit weiteren Preissteigerungen. Der stabilste Nahverkehrspreis ist der sogenannte "erhöhte Beförderungstarif", also das Strafgeld für Schwarzfahren, das in den letzten 30 Jahren nur einmal erhöht wurde.”
― Gebrauchsanweisung für Berlin
― Gebrauchsanweisung für Berlin
“Im Übrigen zählen seit einigen Jahren wohl auch die Festspiele am 1. Mai zu dieser Art von Touristenattraktion. Wohlstandskinder aus dem ganzen Land reisen mit selbstgebastelten Molotow-Cocktails nach Kreuzberg, und weil es dort keine Randale gibt, machen sie sich die auch noch selbst. Die Berliner Polizei nutzt die Gelegenheit, Kollegen aus dem ganzen Land zur Unterstützung einzuladen, und mit etwas Glück stehen dann frustrierte westfälische Jugendliche frustrierten westfälischen Polizisten auf dem Oranienplatz gegenüber. Die meisten Kreuzberger sind diesen Zirkus ziemlich leid und wünschten, die betreffenden Paarungen würden sich gleich in Bielefeld auf dem Bahnhof kloppen und dann zu Hause bleiben.”
― Gebrauchsanweisung für Berlin
― Gebrauchsanweisung für Berlin
“Wer sich in Berlin als Immobilienmakler zu erkennen gibt, sollte sich nicht über die Frage wundern: "Und, kann man davon leben?" Denn es ist nicht so wie in anderen Metropolen, wo ein Mangel verwaltet wird und ein Immobilienmakler darum allein auf der Basis von Bedarf und Frechheit sein Dasein fristen kann.
Irgendeine eigene Geschäftsidee muss man hier schon haben, denn eine überteuerte, kleine Wohnung in schlechter Lage, wie sie sonst das Hauptgeschäft dieser Branche ausmacht, findet in Berlin auch noch das blindeste Huhn.”
― Gebrauchsanweisung für Berlin
Irgendeine eigene Geschäftsidee muss man hier schon haben, denn eine überteuerte, kleine Wohnung in schlechter Lage, wie sie sonst das Hauptgeschäft dieser Branche ausmacht, findet in Berlin auch noch das blindeste Huhn.”
― Gebrauchsanweisung für Berlin
“Außerdem mag der Berliner die Leute von außerhalb nicht so besonders. Die Brandenburger sind ihm zu ländlich, die Hamburger zu städtisch, die Rheinländer zu fröhlich, die Bayern zu griesgrämig. Mit den Sachsen verbindet ihn eine jahrhundertealte Feindschaft, die beide Seiten liebevoll pflegen. So stehen Berliner Fußballfans gerne volltrunken auf irgendeinem Bahnhof und brüllen lauthals in Richtung des vermeintlichen Gegners den beliebten Schlachtgesang: "Ihr seid nicht aus Berlin, nicht aus Berlin, nicht aus Berlin!" In Wirklichkeit ist dies vielleicht einer der friedlichsten Fußballgesänge überhaupt. Die Sänger denken "Ja!" und sind zufrieden. Aber die Besungenen denken auch "Ja!" und sind womöglich noch zufriedener.”
―
―
“I remembered the wild girl every time I saw her soul in the neon pastel sky.”
― Remember the wild girl
― Remember the wild girl
“And then nights like these, sitting high on adrenaline in the dark by a tiny lake somewhere I don´t know where it is, for I was running and deliberately lost my way.”
― Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving
― Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving
“I am almost thirty, never been in love, at least not enough to stay in love through the foul moods, the oppressive silences, the subjugation, the acquiescence, the petty fights, the nagging questions, all the other complications that tend to get factored into a relationship once it stews in time, simmering to a boil.”
― Manila Was A Long Time Ago - Official
― Manila Was A Long Time Ago - Official
“With Mindy, I could be the man I wish I were, the man I doubt I could ever be, the man I wish I could take a pill to become.”
― Manila Was A Long Time Ago - Official
― Manila Was A Long Time Ago - Official
“No, not really, not to change it, not to forget it, or rewrite it, but to remember it with caution so it is not too harmful to keep in mind.”
― Manila Was A Long Time Ago - Official
― Manila Was A Long Time Ago - Official
“I have left many things in my life. Hometowns, first apartments, countries, bad relationships, older versions of me, jobs, ideas, department stores, theatre performances, conversations. Leaving is what makes me thrive. My early twenties were full of me leaving places and faces. But it all came to a halt when I moved to Berlin. I had always thought it to be the final destination. The epitome of cities. Everyone I knew wanted to live there, was going to live there, or was already strutting down the wide pavements with a new edgy haircut, dressed all in black and possibly: a drug problem.”
― Things I Have Noticed: Essays on leaving/searching/finding
― Things I Have Noticed: Essays on leaving/searching/finding
“Like all of my friends, I’d seen the ubiquitous soft-core pornography on late-night German television that our English relatives found scandalous. Police interviews, maths lessons, doctors’ visits turning unexpectedly sexual and ending with grunting dry humping. But I’d never seen an erect penis that wasn’t my own, I’d never seen a pale pink circumcision scar, I’d never seen, piece by piece, how a man’s body joins up, how the landscape of skin and hair changes in texture and tone, from the folds of the lips to the folds of the testicles, the tufts of black on his toes to the perfect triangle of hair above his buttocks on his otherwise hairless back.”
― An Honest Man
― An Honest Man
“Berliners wear black" is the conventional wisdom. However, arriving in the city, you will find this is hardly true.”
― Travel With Style: Master the Art of Stylish and Functional Travel Capsules
― Travel With Style: Master the Art of Stylish and Functional Travel Capsules
“Some of the “songs” on offer were served up with screams and inarticulate noises to an audience consisting mostly of teenagers who, whipped up by the music, carried out degenerate motions.”
― Beyond the Wall: East Germany, 1949-1990
― Beyond the Wall: East Germany, 1949-1990
“From 1971, the rates paid were means-tested, allowing working class families with children privileged access. A four-person household in West Germany spent around 21 percent of their net income on rental costs while a similar household in the East only needed 4.4 percent.”
― Beyond the Wall: East Germany, 1949-1990
― Beyond the Wall: East Germany, 1949-1990
“This project was hugely successful, perhaps one of the most effective aid projects ever conducted. Vietnam is now the world’s second largest producer of coffee, producing around 30 million 60-kilogram bags every year, and its industry employs 2.6 million people. Its Robusta beans have a high caffeine content and are ideal for granular and instant coffee, which is drunk in large quantities around the world. Only 6 percent of the produce is used internationally, while the rest is exported at an estimated annual worth of $3 billion.”
― Beyond the Wall: East Germany, 1949-1990
― Beyond the Wall: East Germany, 1949-1990
“Ein Jegliches, ein Jegliches hat seine Zeit, und alles Vornehmen unter dem Himmel hat seine Stunde, ein Jegliches hat sein Jahr, geboren werden und sterben, pflanzen und ausrotten, das gepflanzt ist, ein Jegliches, Jegliches hat seine Zeit, würgen und heilen, brechen und bauen, suchen und verlieren, seine Zeit, behalten und wegwerfen seine Zeit, zerreißen und zunähen, schweigen und reden. Ein Jegliches hat seine Zeit. Darum merkt ich, daß nichts Besseres ist, als fröhlich sein. Besseres als fröhlich sein. Fröhlich sein, laßt uns fröhlich sein. Es ist nichts Besseres unter der Sonne als lachen und fröhlich sein.”
― Alfred Döblin: Berlin Alexanderplatz. Lektüreschlüssel
― Alfred Döblin: Berlin Alexanderplatz. Lektüreschlüssel
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