"Which is all to say, smoking definitely didn’t love me back. And admittedly, I had liked the contradiction of it, of being a person who worked out six days a week and wouldn’t use beauty products that contained parabens but also willingly ingested—nay,
paid for the privilege of ingesting—
poison with my matcha in the morning. Like they canceled each other out, like that meant that, despite the solid, wonderful boyfriend, the great job, the friends and the family, and, God help me, even
the golden retriever, that signifier of settled-down squareness and all the associated responsibilities therein, that I was still young and stupid and fun, still capable of sussing out the best route to the bar at a packed party, of staying out all night.
Cigarettes, to me, were a blazing signifier that I still made bad choices, that I was still interesting."
- Love Stories: My Chemical Romance, by Alessandra Codinha (x)"Es dauerte mindestens zwei Jahre, bis ich mich hier zu Hause fühlte. Jetzt habe ich allerdings manchmal das Gefühl, dass sich Berlin schon wieder an mir vorbeientwickelt hat. Die Bar 25, das Stattbad Wedding, der Picknick-Club: so viele Orte, mit denen ich Schönes verbinde, gibt es nicht mehr.
Das muss eine Stadt erst einmal schaffen – dass du keine 30 bist und schon Nostalgiker."
- Berlin, Berlin, wir ziehen nach Berlin! (x)
