A Love Letter to Berghain (Part 4/8): Baby's first darkroom visit

A repressed American puts a toe in the water

(This is part four of an eight-part series that begins with this article.)

"Man is reluctant to move out into the overwhelmingness of his world, the real dangers of it; he shrinks back from losing himself in the all-consuming appetites of others, from spinning out of control in the clutchings and clawings of men, beasts and machines. As an animal organism man senses the kind of planet he has been put down on, the nightmarish, demonic frenzy in which nature has unleashed billions of individual organismic appetites of all kinds..." -- Ernest Becker (in The Denial of Death)

This post is paid because I share things about myself I've never shared with anyone else ever and that's a bit scary. I don't really want this freely available without some sort of door between the public internet and the private place where I spill myself out on the page writing about what I did on my first visit to Berghain's famed darkroom.

I'm not putting the paywall here for money, I'm putting it here for safety and discretion. My darkroom visit was pretty tame compared to what normally transpires there, so please don’t see this as an Only Fans-style invitation to locate the tissue box and unbuckle your pants. There will be some explicit bits, but they’re not the main point of this article.