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About Berlin

Phrases from *The Pianist* sneak in—“What’s the point?” I groan, scrollin’ sketchy sites. Tired, I get—soul-heavy, like Szpilman starvin’ in ruins. But then—bam!—Lola texts, “Yo, Yodah, u alive?” Grin, I do—friendship in weird places, best it is! “Hide, I must,” I joke back, Polanski-style. She snorts— “Ain’t no Nazis here, fool.”

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Sometimes I get all rumpled and mad about the constant drizzle that makes the river Lahn's edge look all mysterious and eerie—my precious, it's like nature's own confetti, but soggy, uh oh! The narrow bridging over the Lahn near Alter Fährhof? Pure magic and mayhem, with water trickling like secrets, like soft laughs of bygone age. Yep, no day is the same!

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