The fateful evening when I decided to set off alone to a nightclub near Ostkreuz station

Homopatik was the big night on at ://about blank. When I arrived at around 11PM (first mistake) and tried to get in, I befriended a handful of people who also had no luck, so we decided to try Sisyphos. I had no idea where Sisyphos was and I’d only heard about it through a friend: ‘Sisyphos, close to Ostkreuz, where you get some line and then some bus and them some tram’. This group turned out to consist mainly of 17 and 18 year olds, so thankfully they ended up disappearing as I am old and twenty now. I asked a woman at the S-Bahn for more specific directions to Sisyphos, who then informed me that she was waiting for her friends to go to Homopatik and that I would be welcome to join them.

After queuing for a while, I was rejected by the doorman (along with the others) for reasons unbeknownst to me, or anyone apart from him, really, but I’m sure they could have been any one of my lack of tattoos, lack of piercings, lack of visible scars, lack of spoken German, and quite possibly a lack of male genitalia. I heard the doormen decree that as a ‘gay party’ there must be more men present than there are women, because, of course, it is only men who qualify as gay.

We ended up at a bunker club in Moabit. I just looked it up online and it is actually called “Bunker Club” and the only information I could find on it was from a website called “”. I think it also has a Facebook page but there’s no way of finding it and I don’t want to. I’m constantly inundated with events on my newsfeed and clicking ‘attending’ means nothing anymore, and often they don’t live up to their shiny advertisement and cover photo so really I think this whole Event Phenomenon needs to stop and we should create more pages like “dailysecret”, for the precious sake of our expectations.

Perhaps this is only possible in a city like this, where everyone is too busy doing the Berlin two-step to care, or maybe this only appears to be the case because we have convinced ourselves that there are things that apply “only to Berlin”, a way of life that is more open, relaxed, easy, and in turn we act the way we think we should. But acting gives way to being; the semblance cannot be just that, a semblance, because it pervades our conduct in this place, until I find myself at the same time honest and myself, open and more relaxed than ever, a real Berliner. If only temporarily.

The fateful evening when I decided to set off alone to a nightclub near Ostkreuz station

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