My beloved flatmate just moved out. I still feel a slight ache induced by helping her carrying all her things down the stairs a few hours ago. But the heartsickness is much bigger. The flat feels so empty and the autumn muddiness outside adds to it. There are many things we should've done but didn't do because of external bondages and compulsions. We didn't have enough time. But when does one ever have enough time? We have plans for Berlin though. I feel like I need this awkward, grey, overcrowded city more than ever. Things in Hamburg have not come to an end yet, but I'll have to take a break and plunge into another sea.
For now, I'll stay on the couch listening to Felt, probably the best dream pop band I know. Longing for another place, another time.