Like a melting pot of the end, we have reached peak.
Peak hipster, drunk, refugee, beard, old Germans, punks, cafes, trendy shops, expensive shops, bars, dirt, designer dogs, designer dog shit, new builds, old apartments for poor people, politically correct correctness, political politics, economic growth, crash and burn.
The cool, gender neutralists, art, graffiti, snobs, clicks, vegans, bare ankles, gin, fashion, non-fashion, junkies eating sardines on the train, coffee, old punks turned straight, black, black, black, techno, beer, date rape drugs, start-ups and iMacs who do over design.
Mono specialists, elitist studios, throwing out the artists and free thinkers, the grit, the punks drunks and techno Gods. Bone black, mars black, cobalt black, gray black, true black, false black. Do you need to ruin this place for this?
Following, flowing, flying…a Sunday morning pilgrimage, the city of love, like butterflies on migration, lost even.
Does every generation reach this though, think that they have reached peak? Peak fuck up? Peak Berlin, peak London, Dublin, Cork, peak housing crisis, peak crisis, bum, Trump, abortion, throw away society, throw away people, peak digital double lives.
And a new generation of peak is born, moving on to the next level of destruction, and caring, human nature, discards nurture and becomes only human or inhuman, all of the ‘isms’, poverty, war, drunk, CRISIS.
The unfulfilled fulfilling expected expectations.
That’s why there is God, church, religions, that’s why there is drugs, that’s why there is Berghain, that’s why places like Berlin exist, remain, falling to its knees.
That’s why Art.
Assimilated longevity, solitude, loneliness, anonymity, free and hard and real, from somewhere else, a far awayness that tastes irresistible. Without distraction, moving, turning, rotating on without pause, churning, breathing, fucking, regenerating, clumsily fist over foot to the next level of escape.
All this shit we need.
To make us feel something.