So like
every day, five hours sleep and the urge to go to the bathroom! Then, there is
the choice, keep awake or going back to bed. Going back to bed is very
difficult! The computer is so tempting, so much to do on the computer at five o’clock
in the morning! Except if it is the night of Homopatik. One problem of getting
old in Berlin is that they won’t let you in the club if you are already drunk,
but you wouldn’t think about going there if you wouldn’t be drunk in the first
place. So you wake up sober and everything is so boring that you might take the
U-Bahn and then the S-Bahn to see what young people do.
Choices:
S-Bahn or not S-Bahn?
The trip to
Ostkreuz is not bearable without music; how low is the battery? 30%! Let charge
the phone ten minutes and the night is saved, you can sleep on the way back but
not going there, you have to get in the mood. Tried MGMT but it doesn’t work,
it will be Paul Kalkbrenner again.
How to make the clothes laying on the floor
a pass for the right club without waking up your husband? Underdress and dare…
Nobody will
know those ugly boots are Marc Jacobs if your trousers are stuck in it, and
this Dior mini trench coat, worn as a shirt, looks totally fine! Put on the top
a regular down jacket from your husband and “le tour est joué”. Already on the
Friedrichstrasse and realizing that the pockets of the jacket are stuffed with
pain killers. Noooooooo! Not jeopardizing my entry in the club with those shit
pills, they check you at the entrance. Getting rid of those is the priority! There
is so many, it might be valuable; you have to think before throwing away prescription
drugs.
Then, just remembering
that even with the whole terrorist insanity, there is still lockers on the
train stations.
Whaaat? Four
Euros for the “Schließfach”? Sure 72 hours of safety are not to neglect! This
is the great things about Euros, it is so many coins that at the end you have
much more money than you think. It will be “Schließfach” 101; so George Orwell!
There is no
pain to be felt but who knows? Taking two pills in advance may anticipate the suffering…
The door is
cool and there is no sensitive effect of the pain killers but they ask which
party I am trying to attend. Homopatik of course! Whaaat? I forgot again that
in the winter the party lasts only thirty-six hours and not seventy-two? It was
yesterday! Yes, I do not care about the difference of “crowd”, I can already
hear that music is good.
It is 6:30
in the morning and the boys are looking beautiful. Tall, blond, trying to
behave like men but not able to do it, keeping at the end the baby face and the
insecurity! The girls are, like always, more in control but can dance. I realize
that German boys are not automatically bad dancers but they are too used to
have a beer in their right hand while they smoke with the left one; it does
handicap few moves! I realize that
German boys are not automatically bad dressed but they care less about
elegance. Fashion tonight will be black tank top and jacket worn as an apron.
Nostalgia
is tempting listening to this Plastic dreams Remix but most of the people here
were not born as it was written, so, don’t let yourself go!
It just
feels so good to be alone.
Of course there is all those French people, I guess…,
who dance better but who are not looking as good; and they have attitude, cool
attitude but still attitude. Yes, you made it; you left everything and went to
Berlin!
Sitting at
the bar and being almost on the dance floor; painkillers and alcohol are
supposed to be fun but I just feel being myself. I am allergic to hair
dryers, vacuum cleaners and anything blowing something else than my intimacy.
There is this warm draft which is unbearable but if I move I am no more on the
dance floor, I will show my age and I won’t be cool anymore. Am I a French
person showing attitude? Cool attitude but still attitude!
Yes, I
thought I met you before; you are a friend of Camille? Of course, she likes to
tell I am special. Did you believe her? And you were speaking about me with
Pierre, my barman? Of course I still see him; I gave him his Christmas present
at work last night! Let me show you how it works with big boobs girls. Two
minutes after, Laura is drinking with me telling me how she is relieved to meet
a guy who doesn’t want to get in her pants, or more exactly in her bras. Maxence
is amazed. So I do my show and tell him how happy I am to be alone here. It
seems he is not pleased to hear I feel alone with him and asks if he should
leave. Telling him that not having to play a game and do compromises, like I do
with my friends leave him perplex. It is not a game like with my friends but it
is still a game.
So you were
born in Versailles and your name is Maxence? Then you went to Berlin and you
grew a beard? Please, let me call you Max, at least it sounds Jewish!
And then,
there is the small boobs girl, I tell him about the girls with the “Fuck me
shoes” or the “Marry me shoes”; she is wearing flats! Question of choice!
I disappear, I am no longer welcome.
I already
decide to write my night but I want the choice, the choice of what? Writing a
text which will be there for eternity, even if embarrassing but will exist, or
getting even drunker and forget to write… Max is not in the room so I have to
go back home to write, I won’t get drunk alone. And then, Max appear, he is scared
about the eternity factor of the writing but accepts a last beer.
Alexei,
with a black tank top, is doing a parade dance with me and I realize it is not
about doing the right choices but about the opportunity of having choices. It
is such a privilege!
