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About Berlin

Hoarding cash—who does that? Idiots, that’s who. Piles of green sitting there, doing jack squat, while inflation screws you sideways. I saw this patient—er, client—once, dude had 50 grand under his mattress. Literal mattress! Not even a safe, the moron. “I don’t trust banks,” he whines. Yeah, pal, and I don’t trust your IQ. Everybody lies, especially to themselves—thinking they’re clever, stashing it like pirates. Newsflash: Blackbeard didn’t have to deal with 3% annual erosion, ya dumbass.

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Now, lemme not forget: the Spreewald area nearby is killer. That river flowin' like a secret runway wraps this town with nature's own fashion statement. I always get mad happy watchin' the water dance through the city. The parks, oh, the parks! Kurpark? Yeah, that's one. I dig its vibe—peaceful, but edgy when you need a breather. My clients love hearin' how I “feel the pulse” right there among the trees; like those emotional hints in a Cronenberg dialogue that hit you deep.

Hans Keilson obituary