Tuesday, June 23, 2015

This Is The End



The desk fan goes whuppa whuppa whuppa in the humid Berlin bog.  I take my donuts in my left hand and prepare to leave the place where thousands have come and gone before.  I stuff them in my mouth, verily, one at a time, in remembrance of Berlin.  The thousands first, then the donuts.  I am voracious.

Where?  The Next.  The next cheap place where creative people go to piss about and throw fairy dust at the sky while waiting for the wrecking ball. We won't be assimilated.  There was a respectable time in human history wherein one could live and die in fields or coal mines.  Now there is only the sad promise of a sad cubicle in a sad office space.  Moving up?  Nosir.  Moving down.  Give me black lung disease, motherfucker.  At least my body will die before my brain.

The Next Place will have donuts.  Yes, they will be the death of me, but I choose a glorious, deep-fried, jelly-filled sugar coma.  Alcohol will be my anesthesiologist.  He's the only one I trust.  I will go there, to The Next Place, and start another blog.

Maybe it will be titled something like Notes of an Old Fart.  I'm pushing 50.  It would be a good time to give up the donuts and go for the laxatives.

This is the end, my friend.

But only of my life in Berlin.  In the past 20 years in England, Ireland, Czech Republic and Germany, it has always been a bit unsettling when The Big Change comes round. Then I settle in.  Then I move on.

There will be other lives in other cities.

4 comments:

  1. New adventures lie ahead for you, Oh Great Dunkin Berlliner...and the unknown can be very exciting. Looking forward to finding out what you will do next.

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    1. Yes, adventure awaits! From the humid Berlin swamp air to the hot morning Madrid slow bustle to the California desert! I'm taking it extra slow and sitting under slowly swirling Madrid cafe fans. I spied a Dunkin' Coffee around the corner. It's a Dunkin' Donuts, but they refuse to use the word Donut anywhere. They call them 'Dunkins' on the menu. That's so damn cute I'm gonna hafta eat a whole damn box! I doan wanna. Jess gonna hafta. See ya reeeeeal soon...

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  2. Dude! You've gone back to Amurika? Hot dang son, colour me surprised. I thought you'd be fightin' in the flanks of Europe for ever. I cannot wait to read all about it. I miss you man...

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    1. Who is this Fruiteo I see before me? What ever gave you the idea that I've gone 'back' to America? Just on vacation, old son. Enjoying my time driving up and down California for a few months, but--no friggin' way I would live here. There's a reason I've spent nearly 20 years in Europe. The only things I missed about America during this time were family and real pizza.

      A new blog is in the works, probably with a title like Wide Body Jetsetter or something or other...

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