The Berlin Diaries – Ten Thousand Lamplights

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It’s Saturday afternoon and I wake up in a bed that’s not mine. We smoke something together and watch some television before I leave but that’s a bad idea, always is, because if I smoke in the morning I’m in a haze for the whole day and don’t accomplish much, and I wanted to write today but it doesn’t matter anymore, it’s a lazy afternoon and I’m sleepy and smiling as I drift back to my place. Continue reading

The Berlin Diaries – Kev, The Furious Poet

Editor’s Note:

Dear Reader,

It seems our sole writer and contributor, Dan, wrote the first four paragraphs of this diary entry after a very long day, and was a little frustrated at the time. If you wish to skip straight to the main narrative, which is considerably more jolly, scroll down past the opening 373 words of pure bile. Don’t feel bad. He’ll never know.

***** Continue reading

Berlin Part 1: Hobo Poetry

Well, I’ve found my happy place.

In May I visited Berlin. Flying into Tegel airport (which is shit), I bumbled my way into the city to meet my friend, Michelle, at Leinestraße. I’d not seen her in a year. She’s a little sassy French girl with delightfully tussled hair who parties harder than anyone I’ve met. Her appetite for dancing is never ending. She’s cool. Continue reading

A Quote by Jack Kerouac

It’s often quoted, this one. But I’m reading On The Road and came across it this morning, and I love it.

“[…]the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”