This is 43
This is a little late since I was in Berlin for my birthday and whatever goulash of chemicals and electricity in my brain couldn’t bring me to write this. Let’s just say that I was in a whole lot of pain since my sciatica came back a week before I left. The pain then transferred to my right hip. All in all it made everything difficult: walking, sitting, lying down. There is not any moment where pain and discomfort didn’t affect me. Actually I’m still in pain, but it’s more of a dull sustained thing rather than anything sharp and debilitating.
So that’s to say that one of my regrets of going to Berlin was I was not able to be quite as ambulatory as I had wanted. I did manage to go out do some record shopping, go to the Philharmonic, go to a Michelin-starred restaurant and take some pictures, but I really wanted to do more. But, isn’t that the regret of most vacation-goers?
I do not regret the luxury I indulged in however. Because of my back pain, I decided to use my points to upgrade to business class for my flights on Air France. That was such a good decision with the lie-flat seats and wonderful menu. However, can someone explain to me why there are no non-stop flights from LA to Berlin? Connecting at Charles De Gaulle was a fucking pain and took forever to get between terminals.
I also stayed at the Ritz Carlton right in Potsdamer Platz. To tell you how nice it was, they gave me a birthday cake! Not pictured was my meal at Nobelhart and Schmutzig which was close by my hotel — a 10-course Michelin-starred meal that featured hyperlocal sourced ingredients because they forbid pictures being taken and urge people to savor the moment. Again, no regrets.
I realize as this thing called life goes on is that there’s a whole lot of bullshit that clouds our lives and makes it seem so much more complicated that it needs. Like all of these self-help bullshit artists and cloying folks who want people to like them who say that travel is deep and self-realizing is at its heart just bullshit and unnecessary. No, in all of my trips I have not gained any deeper insights into myself. No, I have not gained any deeper insight to the world as a whole. All I know is I just want to be happy, do what I want to do as long as I’m not causing harm to others and want as little misery as possible. It’s bad enough my body betrays me with pain, so I just refuse to deal with pain from others. And not everything needs to have a deeper significance, life doesn’t need to have meaning.
So this is 43. This is the reason I’ve started to get tattoos. This is the reason why last weekend I decided to get my first piercing: a septum ring that I had actually wanted for decades. I’m just here just trying to be happy. Thanks for the self-indulgence.
Anyhow here are some more photos from Berlin: