"A night out in Berlin possesses endless possibilities to fulfill your wildest fantasies; thus allowing my time to be lived freely, without a plan or expectation."
Written by: Wild Thing
There is a ferocious beast inside of me. It has taken me places so high I could see heaven and so low I shuddered at the sight of my reflection. The beast has a hunger, it wants me to relish in my sexuality and deviance, I surrender. Like loose bottles rolling on trains, I was free to roam yet easy to break.
A night out in Berlin possesses endless possibilities to fulfill your wildest fantasies; thus allowing my time to be lived freely, without a plan or expectation. I had just finished a bartending shift and was already undoubtedly tipsy, but with a curious mind and an untameable heart, it was inevitable the night was young.
The desire for deep conversation is what pulled me to continue my evening across the street at Sofia, a café/bar with such personality and seduction that I’d take her home for a night if I could. Stumbling into an atmosphere flooded with smoke rings, the décor is of a 70s style lodge with accents of gay erotica that are sexually stimulating. I greet the barkeep, a friendly face with kind eyes. He gives me a cheap beer that is accompanied by an unexpected shot of Vodka. I hated Vodka but a drinks a drink, cheers.
I reach depths of conversation that lead me to dark places and use emotions as my universal language, something I learned through being entangled and wrapped up with foreign lovers.
Beginning to drift from the words spoken, the desolate feeling of loneliness begins to kick in when noticing the number of cigarette butts sitting in the ashtray in front of me. They were all mine. Scraping pennies for a white powder that will get you nowhere but downhill, the opportunity for a line presents itself: I am high again.
I ask for water as an attempt to wash away my sins.
It’s 3 am and my coworkers have joined me. They have gotten word that our friends are at a squat party nearby and I am intrigued. The water I have been drinking has been confused with vodka and I haven’t noticed till now despite my glass being half empty. I suppose my pessimistic tendencies coincide with my drinking habits.
We arrive at the gates of Køpi, home to those fighting to protect what remains of the cities underground. Trash bins ignite in flames attempting to bring warmth to the people while banners with political statements fly fiercely in the night. Gentrification is an ongoing threat to the community that humbly welcomes me into their home.
Below the surface isn’t as dark as I imagined, the free spirits brighten the room, offering good company and strong shots that fill the glass and then some more. I allow my flirtations tendencies to work the room with confidence in the way I talk to people.
Any sanctity that remains now fades, my vices begin to emerge from the shadows.
I discover a cinema, it lies within a vault where secrets are told and lovers melt into one another. Makeshift seating stands in place of red velour chairs while the screen is projecting cartoons that are sending me into abstract dimensions. I am trapped in a vortex of the unknown, questioning my mischievous ways with ambitions of being taken to higher places.
Blurred vision turns to white lines, now I’m French kissing bottles containing a magical powder sending me on a love trip.
Slithering my way down the rabbit hole, I begin to feel vertigo as I hear the sound of alluring rhythms that pull me into a state of euphoria. The endorphins in my body are pulsating with pleasure, I want to dance in this serendipitous moment of chaos forever.
I am chasing the hallucination of filling a void that remains hollow. Satiating in the substances that act as a temporary band-aid, the adhesive is never strong enough to hold together a heavy heart. I feel paralyzed amid destruction and am the closest thing I have to a voice of reason.
I gather my things and make my way up the collapsing stairs towards the surface, hoping to find freedom from the thoughts viciously circulating my mind. Time has slipped away from me; it’s been daytime for a while now. I breathe in the cold winter air and light another cigarette. My thigh-high boots clank against the pavement that serves as a rooftop for the souls who continue to party on below as I begin my long journey home.
The sun comes up and the blinds roll down, and with a troubled mind, I find myself to be another lost soul on an estranged path within the city of big dreams.
I draw a bath and light a joint in an attempt to wash away my sins.
I am born again.