everywhere but here

by Sara · 28.07.2010 · Kiez Life · 3 comments

I was at the end of my breath late last year. I was ready to pack it all in, give up, and just hide in a cave for the rest of my life. I was emo­tion­ally withered, socially shut down and men­tally broken.

Yeeeah, I’m over­re­act­ing. It wasn’t as big a drama– though it was bad enough. I blamed it on Ber­lin. I wanted to get away (funny how that’s exactly what I did before com­ing to Ber­lin). Even­tu­ally, I mustered up the guts to say “fuck it, I’m leav­ing for a world trip in 9 months” (we’ll leave the details for another time). And here I am, seven months later, a month and a half away from leav­ing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still stoked about my travel plans. But in those last weeks of work and gen­eral life, some­thing happened to me. Ber­lin happened to me.

Time flew by sud­denly. And it wasn’t bad time. Being excited, I star­ted con­sid­er­ing Ber­lin my first des­tin­a­tion of my world trip, open­ing up new (also touristy) ways to bide my time. In doing so, I also opened up a door for new friends, new ideas, and appar­ently, my eye­sight got a lot bet­ter too.. damn. Life was (and is still) good. Just like that, I got used to stay­ing, as opposed to leav­ing. I arrived in Berlin.

Ber­lin is just a city like every other place in the world. It’s got build­ings and cars and his­tory and dirt and clubs and res­taur­ants and whath­aveyou. In all hon­esty, fuck Ber­lin, it’s a shi­thole for all I know ((err, I’m kind of going over the top here, I love Ber­lin, please don’t hate me y’all)). My point: if you’re not happy, no place in this world will make you feel bet­ter. No magic here. Just inspir­a­tion and exper­i­ence to gain. You will not see the stun­ning view if you walk around with your eyes shut (like I used to). I learned it the hard way. I let the city and my high expect­a­tions crush me. Then I met someone. Someone inspir­ing. Someone who wasn’t spe­cial, but who made me feel like one in a mil­lion. Someone just like Berlin.

And then, slowly.. ‘here’ became home. The friends I found (and keep find­ing) became fam­ily. Friends who are 99% respons­ible for all the good things that have happened. People of all kinds, races and back­grounds who I would have never met in any other place. The one thing we have in com­mon? Drugs. If trav­el­ing is our weed, then Ber­lin is our god­damn fuck­ing crys­tal meth whore house.

I’m spill­ing because I’m back home at my par­ents’ for the next couple of days. Blame it on my dent­ist in Ber­lin, who con­veni­ently decided to go on vaca­tion right when all of my wis­dom teeth just ache to break out. So now I’m in Frank­furt. Again. I miss Ber­lin. I miss my bed. I miss sit­ting on the win­dowsill and just watch the stars and the Fernse­hturm at the other end of the city. Listen to the sounds of the street.

Decid­ing to leave Ber­lin made me love Ber­lin. Who woulda thunk it.

(I hereby vow to refrain from using any­more kitsch, romance or pseudo-psychological themes for at least two weeks)

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  1. du weisst, dass du längst ein teil davon bist. für mindes­tens einen von 3.442.676.

  2. <3

  3. Ich danke dir fuer diesen Artikel.
    Er haette auch von mir han­deln koennen.
    Erst vor ein­i­gen Mon­aten, als ich ueber­legte, alles hier abzubrechen, abzuhauen, wieder ein­mal von vorne zu beginnen, begann ich, die Stadt noch­mals genau zu erkun­den, die abgele­genen Seen, unge­woehn­liche Orte, fernab von meinem All­tag, Fre­unde zu tref­fen, um alles noch­mals intensiv auf­sau­gen zu koennen, um nichts ver­passt zu haben.
    Dann ist mir aufge­fallen, dass das Leben ganz schoen gut ist. & ich diese Stadt liebe. Weil sie all das bein­hal­tet, was mein Leben momentan gut macht.