Berlin is a city unlike any I have ever encountered. It reeks of beauty build on tight crossroads of pain and tragedy. It reminds me of roses, spring, despair, a city that was once built brick by brick and broken down missile by missile. When in Berlin, you don’t have a choice but to face harsh realities of the past. It’s as though history beautifully wraps it’s arms around you in a soft cradle and tells you stories of it’s past until you fall asleep thinking about what the human race was once like.
My favorite part about Berlin is how modern life and history are so beautifully entwined with one another, as though they can’t survive without the other. It’s the perfect reflection of what life in Berlin is like. You can’t walk around the streets of Berlin without being constantly reminded of the horrors it’s streets have seen. Every cross point and narrow alley is a reminder of the wall that once stood tall and the loss that people on both sides faced. Not much is encased behind beautiful glass walls and enclosures that people can see but not touch, take pictures off and move on, no, Berlin has it’s history out in the open, left the way it was. Parts of the wall still remain in their original place and metallic linings indicate churches and homes that once stood at the very spot that your two feet play in.
Another interesting part of Berlin lies in the colossal gorgeous mess that is the graffiti world. When walking around in Berlin, you can’t help but notice the powerful messages and words often colored with bright shades of neon that just subtly hides the power of rebellion screaming through. It’s like a whole different thriving cult that gives the city a whole new aura of magic.