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I am here! My friend I was travelling with is not. It seems someone died on the subway yesterday making her miss her flight; shell be here tomorrow morning. I went through Brussels and saw surprisingly little of it, being stranded on the airside. I was trying to think of what my mental image of Brussels would be and it’s surprisingly pastoral/ Guernseyish – I think cows, butter, fields and the UN? Would do well to find out a bit more.Berlin however – first impressions are industrial in that very solidly European way.
Despite the ¿semantic? language? gap, I’m getting on fairly decently thus far and the coffee (kaffee?) is superstrong and flowing. I’m staying in an incredibly good vibed/atmosphered area right now. All pastelled/post industrial gritty, with sick graffiti, reminds me of st petersburg-meets-an-icecream-cone. Somewhere close to the river and Berlin Wall, there’s supposed to be a gallery on it. I think east Berlin is exactly where I want to be when I graduate (though I haven’t been to Istanbul yet..). I am prone to getting lost so I’ll probably shuffle about the area for today and actually write my papers. There’s a wonderful current underfoot of really wanting to read and write so it should go well. I wonder how it would be in the rain? There’s also oddly a lot of dogs underfoot, which is strange as it seems like so much more a cat space. GoogleMaps is also saving my life right now; I found the address of an antifa archive and the Berlin ABC, which will hopefully be a good springboard.
I’m also really digging Henry Miller right now:
Again the dance hall, the money rhythm, the love that comes over the radio, the impersonal, wingless touch of the crowd. A despair that reaches down to the very soles of the boots, an ennui, a desperation. In the midst of the highest mechanical perfection to dance without joy, to be so desperately alone, to be almost inhuman because you are human. If there were life on the moon what more nearly perfect, joyless evidence of it could there be than this. If to travel away from the sun is toreach the chill idiocy of the moon, then we have arrived at our goal andlife is but the cold, lunar incandescence of the sun. This is the danceof ice-cold life in the hollow of an atom, and the more we dance the colder it gets.So we dance, to an ice-cold frenzied rhythm, to short waves and longwaves, a dance on the inside of the cup of nothingness, each centimetreof lust running to dollars and cents. We taxi from one perfect female to another seeking the vulnerable
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