Future Days

It was decided last weekend that Bushwick during the winter time, with its graffiti and leftover mounds of snow, feels like East Berlin (see: Lives of Others). And so one night was spent hanging out with goofy friends in another country, of sorts, and the rest of the weekend was filled with all kinds of New York commodities, like Indian and Vietnamese cuisine, Children of Men (best film of 2006), and subway hassle. Because, seriously, I haven't quite reached the point in my life where I can really take off to Berlin for a weekend.