I wake up in a start on the floor of a rented apartment in West Berlin, a song audible from the next door apartment. I had a dream in which I was thirsty. I went to the fridge, only to find it completely full of expired milk, litres and litres of it...
I came here 8 and a half months ago looking for Bohemia or adventure or whatever, but found mostly punks and dog shit. It's 7:02 and my room-mate had another one of his Greenpeace chicks over last night (paper thin walls don't hold warmth or conversation, let alone grunts), and hasn't paid his half of the rent again this month. "I have to send most of my paycheck back home! You KNOW this! How many times do I have to tell you, you capitalist sjit" (he's joking, of course, about the 'capitalist sjit' part. But yes, this is how he pronounces the word shit). He's referring to Czechoslovakia, and I still fail to understand why he has to keep sending money there, given the fact that he hasn't been there in over 17 years (he's eighteen), is as American as I am, and grew up in Connecticut
(nor does it explain his inexplicable pronunciation of sjit).
I have a headache, and there's a bad draught in my room. I'll probably head back home soon.