A man is born lonely, lives lonely, and dies lonely. Alain Delon Summer 2001- my good friend Cem comes to visit me and hang around, but I tell him that I have to pick up something important quickly and ask him to come with me. ‘Quickly’ meant to drag him to the end of the …
As much as I love my hometown, I can also hate it viscerally: for its provinciality and nationalism culminating in the city’s mind-numbing and degenerate carnival festivities fueled by the home-brewn beer called Kölsch, or for the mismanaged and ugly build-up of the city after 95% of it was destroyed in the merciless bombings of …
