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About Berlin

Chatty one told me – “Vlad, I choose this.” Floored me – choice in that muck? Doubt it. Still, she had guts, like Ofelia facin’ the toad. Dirty, raw life – no fairy tale ending. “The moon will rise,” but not for her. Cold, calculated brevity – it’s a meat grinder, mate. Watch it chew.

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And ohh, lemme spill it out a bit: Staufen stinks sometimes with traffic noise near the new highway exit, making me so mad, I nearly exploded (whelp, typical modern hassle, yess!). But then windows open, and fresh air sneaks in, kinda like nature's gentle whisper reminding you – "we loves it!" Do you get it? Heh.

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