Midnight. Thousands of people still roam the streets. An occasional businessman runs to catch a train while punks group together in black ragged clothes, clubs start pumping their dark beats and students fill most bridges drinking beer and discussing life. Berlin is alive. Excitingly alive.
I walk around Warschauer Strasse where deep techno beats escape a shady industrial playground for adults. Neon colours fuse with the metallic grey and seduce the crowd for a trip. Loose yourself, gain the world – tonight.
Some can handle the anonymous freedom offered and enjoy a temporary bliss. Others display an empty stare and drugs-scarred faces. It’s a fine line between ecstatic escapism and a dangerous disregard of responsibility (towards oneself and society).
Who to blame for those that do not surface anymore? Should we just cherish the room offered to experiment, enjoy, create and make mistakes?
Is this city liberating and beautiful or addictive and ugly, I ask myself.
Whatever it is, it’s fascinating and will make me want to keep coming back.