I once lived in Berlin. I was 19, and alchemically thin. I earned essentially no money, getting fired from dead end jobs and doing nude photoshoots for local 'artists, subsisting on partying and 10 cent Brötchen. I shared a single bed top and tail, read Russian literature, and played Shogun. It was amazing.

But, after a while, I noticed something. I would often meet people twice my age, still thin, still partying. This made me question things. No matter how amazing it is, you can't live in Berlin forever. That's why I had a child.