Ten Little Missions
Saturday night, cheap wine and bad pizza in a second-floor apartment while Berlin’s Fashion Week happens somewhere else without us. Ghostbusters on the screen, the weather channel after that, and the specific paralysis of knowing we could do literally anything tonight and yet here we are. At some point—wine-drunk, maybe around 11—I start thinking about what an actually good weekend would look like. Not aspirational. Not the kind of thing you’d post. Just… what would make this feel like something.
First idea’s stupid but persistent: buy a dead domain on eBay and turn it into something ridiculous. nerdcore.de as an organic fruit import operation. Something nobody would ever verify, which is the whole point. Or get on the U-Bahn in July with cheap vanilla ice cream, shorts, sandals—make summer everybody’s problem for forty-five minutes. Just sit there and make them think about heat.
Then it gets more personal. Not touching yourself for a whole weekend just to feel what Monday morning actually tastes like. There’s something honest about that kind of self-denial, almost religious. Same logic as hunting dead Furbies at the flea market and burning them on the street—watching plastic go back to what it always was. Or just staring at someone beautiful for long enough that it stops being a choice, that your face just stays there and you can’t do anything about it.
The weirder stuff comes next. Apparently Sweden’s doing this thing where you lick your own armpit. I don’t know if that’s real but it feels like it should be. Building a bunker outside the city, stocking it, waiting for the bombs. At least when WWIII comes we’d have somewhere to party. Kidnapping Lykke Li and forcing private concerts until the cops show up. Sleeping with a friend and whispering something stupid and true in the dark—your lips taste like kebab and they’re soft like flatbread. Not performing it. Just saying what happened.
The last one lands different. Plant a tree. Like that would somehow balance the weekend. Like I’d actually follow through instead of just thinking about it while the city stays out there being important and we’re still here with cheap wine, watching the storm roll in.