It might just have been a dream

Summer was hesitating, and the rain poured down outside my window, and it threw me into a sad, sad mode, made me want to hurt myself, and by hurting myself I would usually turn to the bottle. I was just too lazy to do any other damage to my body, I think my laziness have saved me at tines. If I wasn’t as lazy as I am I probably be a heavy drug user and be covered of tattoos and scars by now. But me being lazy just made the whole thing to get to a needle place so far fetched and scoring drugs always seemed like such a task, when I could just lay in the rain and drink one, two, three, four, five beers and just watch the world melt away outside my window.

Occasionally I would draw on myself, I have someone draw on me, and then I would sometimes submit myself to really bad sex, but that was about it. Bad sex and fake tattoos. Sometimes friends would feed me drugs, and during one hot summer I actually took it upon myself to hang out with a speed dealer. Well, I admit he was in love with my little Asian gay boy, and Asian gay boy would giggle and say he loved me, so I never felt bad about sitting in a park snorting free lines and once in a while rummage my pocket for some spare change to give to the strung out guys.

My German really improved that summer, and so did my desire to get away from myself, to stop riding the U-bahn in rain thru the outskirts of a former war torn city. The structures around me where new in one sense but ancient in another, there were the impressive parade streets with a whiff of Communist glory glaring at me, and there was the few houses that outlived the RAF furious bombs, It fascinated me, I went to all the well known clubs and danced myself away, I drank too much, I smoked too much, and to drink more I popped tiny pills that made my feet move faster. I fell into a world that lived hastily during the nights and in slow motion during the days. I hid my eyes behind sunglasses, I learned the lesson, if you go out in the night, and you still need the sunglasses for the morning.

"Essentials!" my roommate Kaka would tell me and fill my glass up with more cheap fake Champagne. When we couldn't afford that, we would just drink wine with sparkling water that was almost the best. We would first order "Sect auf Eis" just to switch over to "Wineschorle" as the night progressed. Kaka was ten years my seniors and grew up in East Germany, she had glorious stories about her first blue jeans and climbing the Berlin wall when it fall! I think Kaka might have worked as a real estate agent, but I was not really sure, she was gone during weekdays, and in the weekends she would dance the nights always with me, she seemed to know half of the city and she would drag younger men to the apartment and take baths with them in the bathtub. I would long for something, but most of the time I would spend with gay boys, because they had the drugs, they had the connections and they always knew where the party where. I think I might have impressed people, I don’t know if it was my long legs, my bleached hair or my constant smile. But I never got turned away and I had a thousand numbers in my phone, numbers I did not remember how they gotten there, numbers I never called.

I met a male model who I had mutual friends with, I think he was getting drugs from a friend, I met an amazing girl and tried to talk her into skinny dipping in the polluted river. I might have forgotten what the sun looked like, if it wasn’t that I had to make it to lectures once in a while. I bought a striped dress that hung sexy of my body, and I felt like Blondie when I danced another night away and Kaka dragged home a new guy, swearing that he was the one, and I kept on sleeping on the couch in the living room.

One day it all came to an end, that was probably for the best... for all of us!

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