>a day without prologue
>my last night in berlin, i met up with julia, my roommate from Luxembourg, who just happened to be in berlin at the same time (she saw me on the u-bahn & recognized my shock of hair and short-shorts, no less). we went to the Erotik Museum which, in a word, blew.
so uninspired and short and devoid of character. not at all like the gems of copenhagen or amsterdam. we mostly yapped through the exhibit anyway.
she told me that after luxembourg, she stayed at the exact same brussels hostel that i got kicked out of. but here’s where my toes curl–
that fucker who dared snarl at me like that, the owner: he got into TWO OTHER fights with women while julia was staying there. she said he was always bad-tempered and moody, especially around the women. i laughed so heartily at that. hearty like a stew, i tells ya.
after that debacle, i actually wondered if perhaps i was a magnet for trouble. that was a weight on my shoulders, but i got over it as soon as i left brussels. at least now my raging persona can resurface from its shipwreck.
my genuine heart.
underneath the Erotik Museum was an authentic porno shop and cinema, crawling with creepy men. the women there were giggling and laughing at the absurdity of it all. the men were dead serious.
why is that?
is it perhaps because women know how easy it is to please a man, and it all seems too ridiculously easy, yet men don’t see that women need a greater stimlation beyond the ol’-physical?
there’s something encoded in that Y chromosome.
after a quick ice cream stop, we decided to go the Reichstag (used to be location of the Nazi “parliament,” still in use today but the locals call it the “bundestage” ‘cuz we all know what “reich” conjures up).
as the dusk turned into a starless night, the dome of the reichstag became a windo to berlin’s cityscape, bright lights, big city, two girlies.
as we lay down on the lateral benches and stared up into the big mauve sky, we yapped about everything from The Simpsons, to men, to sex, to work, to travelling, to politics.
the hours ran away like rabbits, and before we knew it, the gauze of night was closing in on us. we ran down the dome’s ramp, out onto the front steps, across the cobbled-street. we stumbled upon a memorial set up to the 150 people who were shot trying to cross the berlin wall over its 28 year reign. we then straddled the embedded-cobblestones in the tarmac which mark the wall’s former location. we had our feet in and on every shore.
i’ll probably see julia when i get to zurich, ‘cuz that’s where she lives and works presently. we hugged, quickly said our goodbyes, and jumped on separated u-bahns, speeding away.
slept only 5 hours.
dragged my ass to the train station for my 6:42am train to warsaw.
that early, the trip was relatively quiet and empty. only me and an old polish woman shared the 6-seater compartment. she looked around 80 years old and her face had skin collapsing in on itself like sandpaper. she had a massive skin growth near the corner of her eye. but she was sweet, even though there wasn’t one thing we could actually say to each other. she learned that i’m canadian, a student, and where in warsaw i’m staying. all i could gather from her was that she was a warsaw native . . .
the map of her life embedded in the lines of her face…written like a public scroll in her flesh. she was beautiful,and you know she has lived a life loaded with more drama than an italian opera.
she nestled into her seat and slept.
arrived in warsaw, crashed.
my body loses consciousness like a train wreck on a pillow.
awoke. strolled through the old town, wishing sonja was with me to translate.
with my new digicam, i captured the polish people enjoying public dislays of dancing (breakdancers), music (energetic guitaristas), painted frescoes (air-brush artists), and delicious dishes amongst the candles and cobblestones.
i flip-flopped back to my hostel.
today is a day without prologue.