
While I was away recently, my neighbor sublet my place in Berlin to backpackers. I was gone for five weeks and in that time he got four different people to take my apartment. Each one stayed around a week. I felt a little violated on my return. What had they done in there? Maybe they’d tried my clothes on, played my guitar, flipped through my dream journal? Maybe they’d done things in my home that I would never ever get the opportunity or the balls to do. Read the rest of this entry »









