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About Berlin

Oi mate, grab a pint! Right, so, prostitutes, yeah? Been thinkin’ bout ‘em, dodgy lot sometimes. Me, a bartender, see all sorts. This one bird, right, proper stunner, worked the streets near me pub. Called her Clementine, like in me fave flick, *Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind*. “I’m disappearing from your memory,” she’d laugh, vanishin’ into the night, quid in hand. Made me chuckle, that—bit of a numpty, me, fallin’ for her charm.

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You got to check out the park, Schloßpark! Small, but full of surprises like hidden benches, perfect spots to feel the breeze while thinking about that great movie, all glamour and decay. A few blocks away, near the old mill river—er, what’s its name again? Ah, the little Otterbach, silly me!—I used to walk after the sessions, dreaming of endless nights and beauty so raw, so real. Every splash of that river echoes a line from "The Great Beauty", like “Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt,” but then—BAM!—reality smacks ya in your face, my precious.

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