So right now, my life is in two places. Three, if you could Berlin. The first is in my sister's basement, the house where I used to live. The second is inside of my mother's guest bedroom, in the guise of two pieces of furniture, and a portable clothing rack where I've hung my button-ups and my coats.
It's strange, not living in the house I've lived in for two years. If I were invited in again (which I surely am and will be), I wouldn't know what to do, because none of the rooms there are mine any longer. Its strange, because every dish and every hanging piece of art is something that I've acquired, with the help of Nati, Jijad, and Kevin, but they are no longer "mine" in the sense that I no longer am renting there.
Its kind of fucked up. I'm just spending time trying to save and learn some German. Its working, I suppose. What I really should be doing is writing. I wanted to take photographs of my boxes and stuff that I've put on hold for three months, but I guess it can wait until everything is in that basement, and I am on my way to the airport for the most defining trip of my life.
Anyway, this post isn't about anything. I just wanted to check in.
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