photo: Rowena Waack
At first it seems strong. Rough even, you might say. With its cracked pavements, strong outlines and loud appearance. It exudes self-confidence, is brutally honest with you. Gives you an opinion, when you didn’t even ask for it. From time to time, you might even have to take a hit.
I guess, she means well.
But on some days, on particular days, you can see the other side of its truth under all that noise. When the fog lifts, and you catch her alone for a short moment, the city starts to show it’s other face. And you discover: Berlin is fragile.
It’s fragile, it’s soft, it’s sensitive – even when it tries to hide it. Under all that rock-hard concrete make-up: an undeniable tenderness. In its quiet moments, when the traffic is low and people are walking slowly, you see the city’s brittleness. Mostly in the people that, just for a short second, stop being bold and putting on a strong face.
The ethereal side of the city let’s you think of your own shell you walk around with.
That shell of concrete we all have on our back, only willing to drop for a few people.
When dropped, underneath it all: soft words written in, asking to be loved.
