I've been carrying my sketchbook around all morning to find a good place to draw. I'm looking for something to take with me, since I'm leaving Berlin in two days. I want something to remind me of the time I spent here, but I don't want to spend my money on expensive souvenirs. I just want to draw a nice picture for the last time while I'm here.

In two days I'm going back to my Venezia, in two days the weird Italian artist is finally gone from Germany. That weird guy, who sits hours long at places to draw buildings, people and almost anything else, then smiles to himself once his picture is finished. That "not sure if sane" guy, who after falling into a fountain could only laugh, and sadly flip through his sketchbook full of faded drawings with a smile. That useless "painter-wannabe" is leaving very soon, are you happy now?

I had a feeling I wouldn't be very welcome to this place, even before I left, but I didn't think my simple presence would be bothering to these people. I tried to be friendly, but all I've got was weird looks. So I gave up trying and started drawing instead to distract myself. If I knew this was going to happen, I would have brought canvas and paint with me. However, I will be in my study full of paintings in two days.

I'm not just a useless painter. Or... that's what I like to think. Painting and drawing are my obsessions, I just can't live without them. They help me to create, they bring colors in my life, - literally - I can pass time with them, and the most important thing is, they help me stay sane. There's sometimes too much on my shoulders, and I need a way to make the weight lighter. I put my pain on canvas, why would I suffer when it can do it for me? It doesn't break under my pain and my nightmares on it, like I could. Canvas is strong and I am weak when it comes to emotions.

I want people to appreciate my work. I want to show my pictures to everyone. I want to show them what one can go through and still stay alive. I'm not useless. I've drawn and painted a thousand stories to tell. I might be not good at being a tough guy and such, but I have my art. That's all that matters to me. I want to be happy, and art is the way to my happiness.

Maybe after this, I'll go to Roma and draw the Colosseum for the hundredth time. And maybe I can meet my brother too. It's been a while since I last saw him. And after that I want to go to Vienna. And then to Paris I guess. There are so many places to draw. I don't even know where to go first. I have to find time for everything.