the berlin post

Okay, so, I made it to Berlin surprisingly free of total fawking meltdown. Surprising because it was four hours from Morlaix to Paris and then TWELVE hours from Paris to Berlin. Ouch! By an unknown miracle brought to you by the sweet baby jesus, I snagged about four hours of sleep and woke up right outside of Berlin. Last time I came, I instantly got lost, did not miraculously learn German instantly and my mean bus driver yelled and me. And yes, I called my mutha, fuckfaces. Twas no good.

But my lovelz friend Liana came and rescued me from the train station. Yeah! And everything has been magical ever since. Berlin is way more gorgeous than I remember. Which may be connected to the fact I came in January, when things like `going outside for longer than ten minutes` and `sunshine` were überverboten. Pictures coming soon, swears to yalls that it`s worth the wait.

This time around, I`m flipflopping all over Prenzlauerberg in East Berlin, way more in the thick of things. The ungodly hot German boys I remember so well are popping out of die woodwork more and more, much to my endless joy. And I have at last been reunited with my weeeeeeeeeeeed, which makes my heart swell beyond its pettz capacity. YAY!

other things: Berlin has CARTIER motherfucking CIGARETTES. And they have menthols, probably the most joy-rending combination there can be for my heart. It´s weird to be thrust back into communicative uselessness once more, but try as I might speaking French in place of German has not really been fruitful yet.

Will deliver news as it unfolds and the pictures shall be glorious and soon. I believe the alarm bell within me that announces when it is time to eat arab food again has just gone off. bless berlin and its abundant, hardon-causing cheapness.