I’m unemployed, and have been for almost a month now. That’s not to say I don’t have an income – I’ve been doing bits and bobs of freelance work, and have been pitching articles and short stories for publication. It’s going surprisingly well so far. It feels nice. It feels amazing. I’m living life on my own terms – making money for myself, no boss, no rules. I’m carving out an existence the way I want to, not the way my bank account dictates. Maybe you could do that anywhere, maybe not. Berlin treats skint artists and musicians and literary types very kindly. It’s built by them and for them.
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The Berlin Diaries – Three Weeks In
I Googled ‘The Berlin Diaires’ yesterday afternoon, trying to find my own blog, and it turns out The Berlin Diaries is also the name of a harrowing account of Second World War Germany, which makes my own Berlin Diaries seem rather unimportant and petty in comparison. So I’ve decided to cease writing it.
Nah just kidding let’s carry on talking about all the weird shit I’ve seen.
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