The Hole

Once again, sorry for the no write. I got people emailing me and asking if I’ve been kidnapped by gypsies or am lounging in between the legs of a Brazilian supermodel all sunbaked and laughing and boozed. The truth is hardly as exciting.

I’ve been in the hole.

In this case that means crawling into the sheets with my laptop on my knees and programming day and night on our new website. I haven’t shaved, hardly shower, and only leave the flat to scavenge for supplies before coming back and getting right back in and shutting the lid to the world.

Today I decided to change it up and head out to the coffee shop because Andre thought it was a good time to send a full gigabyte file to his friend via email. So with the bandwidth being hogged, I headed out into the streets of Berlin for one of the last times.

And as if cued from the sidelines by a gay stage director with a grand sense of the dramatic, as soon as I got here the skies turned black and white flakes began falling from the sky. This just adds to the dreary winterness I’ve been feeling for the last few weeks. There’s something about the snowy darkness of Berlin that sucks the life out of you. Maybe it’s the nostalgia of this place one year ago when I first arrived. Has it really been a year??? Tough times attach themselves to their surrounding and as I sit here, thoughts of leaving fill my mind. Thoughts of people and places back home, of my sister crying when I left, of my parents, and of California and the people I miss there. It’s a damn crazy thing Peter and I have done…

So I’m back under the glass dome of the Berlin winter ball and it’s a place I don’t like being. This coffee shop, with these sad snow-day-songs, with life in the hole, and a whole season of gray ahead of you; I’m ready to switch it all up. And lucky for me, I’ve got the freedom and power to do it. Our flight for Brazil leaves on Monday.

Act Two is about to begin….