Of course I cannot travel to Berlin in the New Year. Especially when the one I love is behind me in London. Alone, alone, alone. Always alone. I have always been alone, and I always shall be. And yet travelling can mark the end of one period of your life, and when you come back you can find everything feels different, and you feel very liberated from them. Maybe after going to Berlin I will feel I can start again and turn over a new page, which I will not do just by staying the whole time in London, trapped in the same routine, silently morosely standing in the back corner of the Scotsman, longing for —– and never even going over to talk to her. This year has been ALL about —–. That would be a good title! ALL ABOUT —–.
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