Berlin hits hard with its graffiti—art spilling from walls and whispering stories of rebellion. The streets tell tales of lives lived, with discarded clothes and shoes lying like forgotten memories.
Everywhere I turn, it’s a parade of dark fashion: black shows, black pants, black coats, black hair - no colours. The atmosphere feels dystopian, where techno beats pulse through the air and beers flow freely on every corner.
Here, among functioning junkies and Russian exiles, Berlin reveals its raw, unfiltered spirit—a city alive with contrast, inviting you to line up and see what goes on inside.
