Perhaps my lack of inspiration is not that I'm no longer capable of writing, but that there genuinely isn't very much to write about an ordinary person's life. Nonetheless, it remains my desire to keep some track of it.
From the snowy gravel in the suburbs of Bremen to the tattoo-filled wall downstairs from my apartment in Berlin-Mitte, I seem always to be reveling in the same sense of content. I surely ain't one of those people whose daily routine is packed with emails and appointments - factually speaking, I don't even have a mode of living that can be called a routine. But I am those who, when hearing others say "he does nothing; he just drifts along", would secretly gloat - see, my life is unburdened - I have no internships to look for, no tragedy in life to cope with and no family food to miss. What else could I be asking for then?
Berlin is not a difficult place to live in. Within minutes of walk, there are an Indian restaurant, a coffee shop, and a basketball court. Although I don't usually go to any of these places, having them available in my proximity empowers me, that one day, dressed in duffle coat and calf shoes, I might spend a Saturday's afternoon in the coffee shop reading. And for now, it is not bad as well. Through the slightly smudged window to my left, I can see the yellow, complacent light coming out from the penthouse across the street - Fehrbelliner Straße it's called, with the swanky German pronunciation of the word " Straße" as if "Stalin". I would sometimes also play piano out of my laptop loudspeaker. For some reason the sound from a loudspeaker is even more vivid than from my 300-euro stereo headphones. Though often I don't understand the titles of the pieces and don't know how to read the names of the composer, my taste in piano, I could assert, is quite tolerable.
Today was one of the few days that I traveled to the more western part of the city - usually the westernmost I go is Alexanderplatz, for the corporate finance lawyers with the first complimentary hour. The conversation was pleasant. He appeared to be very intrigued by my business, and I strive to be very knowledgeable about his legal issues. I drank a glass of orange juice, and another glass of mineral water, and noticed that the window view of Raue LLP is rather magnificent - it is almost the whole panorama view of the Berlin skyline. Even the heaters in the office looked different. I promptly fetched up my cellphone and snapped a picture - too bad the lighting was not correct.
And it occurred to me, to what end was I in the office? If, like the peaceful schoolmates of mine, I stayed in the university and never left, where would I be instead? Not Berlin, evidently, perhaps Bremen, for another year or two until I graduate or my family runs out of money. Yet I was here, standing by the window of the more upscale office building of Berlin, with a glass in hand. Although after 40 minutes of meeting I eventually had to take the U-Bahn back home, back to where everything is reduced to a bag of clothes, a laptop, and several bottles of apple juice. But in me there's much more than just the photograph I've taken, there's also the freedom of having fought.
Therefore, a penthouse or an unfurnished apartment, an upscale office building or a room that isn't mine, a full set of three-piece suit or a Jeep shirt with an oversized Marktkauf discount coat, it doesn't matter to me anymore. For however this turns out, I would have the reassurance that I've been there, done that.
May God bless me and Fuse.
