Berlin | Back in Town Pt 4

On our final full day in Berlin (Vic leaving that night, me early next morning), Vic and I met Bruna for brunch at a funky upbeat restaurant somewhere in Friedrichshain. I had a bacon sandwich and we talked about sex clubs in the city and how we’d all be far too prudish to join an orgy. I never knew I had a ‘line’ until I lived in Berlin. The city tests your limits – you can always go deeper, and nobody ever recommends you don’t. Sooner or later there comes a time when you’re faced with a situation you’ve never seen before, far beyond what you considered possible in the ‘real world’ beyond, and for the first time your mental green light switches to yellow then red – and you pause. And that’s it: you either turn back forever, or plunge in. Some people go to Kitkat and get their thighs spanked with a riding crop for the first time and think ‘Ow, get off’. And others – their irises turn to love hearts.

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Berlin | Back in Town Pt 3

The next morning Vic and I went for breakfast in a little German bakery that sold giant rectangular cakes the size of bricks. We walked to Moritzplatz and up the road past the infamous club Kitkat; I pondered aloud to Vic how, if one could invent some sort of gadget that detected historic orgasms per square metre, the machine would hit the roof when you passed the area. Further down the road we arrived at the giant industrial building that houses Tresor, Ohm (where I watched Annie play a set back in the day) and Kraftwerk – a gargantuan events space inside the gutted husk of a power station.

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London | Loonies at the Open Mic

Sitting in bed writing this, 8:52am, had a coffee and two slices of toast (one marmite, one honey), and the footsteps of my flatmates above through the creaky floorboards are so loud every morning it makes me want to throw a brick at the ceiling (if only I owned a brick). Why do two humans need to walk around so much: that is my first thought upon waking every day. Why do two humans need to pace back and forth eighteen times over the space of half an hour: tell me. Their bed is on one side of the room, their drawers are on the other. There is nothing else in the room. So: what is going on up there. 

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London | Steadily Healthier

I raised my prices today – for my lessons. That’s not particularly interesting for you, probably, but it’s a milestone for me we’ve got to start somewhere. Actually we’ll start here: I’m two months sober. I don’t really like the phrasing of that, makes me sound like a crackhead, but well, maybe I was a bit, back in the day. Not crack but – plenty of other stuff. I stopped drinking after New Year’s Eve with the intention of going three months without. Since I was 14 I don’t think I’ve ever gone anywhere near that long – and I started to worry that my life was not as glorious as it might be and more tragic that it need be. I find myself underwhelmed by years of drinking and the knock-on effects it has on every little thing: that being discipline, money, body fat, anxiety, skin, hair, teeth, motivation and the great sapping-away of TIME. 

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California Pt 11 | Sea Lights

We said goodbye to Annie’s parents in the morning, and I wrote them a letter to say thank you for everything: thank you for the food, thank you for the hospitality, and thank you more than anything for creating the rare delight that is my friend. We set off back to Oakland in the morning, full of breakfast and with a clear sky overhead. First, however, Annie wanted to show me Las Gatos and the area she grew up (which was news to me because I thought we were already in Los Gatos but whatever).

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