Berlin. The city that makes or breaks you. The city that either helps you fulfill your dreams or crushes them relentlessly. The city so full of crazy people that you can’t be around them for more than a few days without your brain bursting with ideas. You look around – tech folks everywhere, indie entrepreneurs, the digital bohême and the unpredictable nomads. Everyone’s working on some kind of unlikely project that is meant to change the world. And you’re right in the middle of it, soaking up whatever comes your way. And then it happens: you want your own project. You want it like a fidgety kid wants a popsicle. And your first thought is: who gives a shit what kind of project – anything will do. Main thing is you’re there and you’re doing something awesome.
And it’s not just while you’re there. The feeling follows you back home, haunts you in your sleep. Come back every few months and it just refills that inner barrel of restlessness. Do it often enough and it’ll get the better of you. No choice left but to pack your bags and make your way to the madhouse.
I’ve exposed myself to the Berlin madness so regularly that I’m hooked. I’m speeding towards the city at 240km/h as I write these lines. And I’m here to stay. For a month. It’s a small start, with hopefully large consequences. I’ve spent months and months thinking hard about what my project will look like. I’ve explored the deepest abyss of my mind – my hopes, my fears, my beliefs, my very purpose. I’m putting all of it into this thing, because it’s something I do give a shit about. And while it’s still pretty blurry at the edges, I’ve drawn out the general shape and the base that will support it. I’m going to work on it until my pencils crack, my keyboard squeaks and my eyes pop out.
Berlin, I’m yours for a month, and you’re mine for a month. Let’s do something awesome.