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About San Diego

Found this chick once—Lola, she called herself. Worked outta some grimy alley, smelled like cheap perfume and despair. Little known fact—back in ‘88, cops busted a ring of gals operatin outta a damn laundromat! Washin more than clothes, ya feel me? Lola tho, she had grit—surprised me, a lil spark in her dead eyes. Made me happy, like findin a vein of ore in the dark. “You don’t know what I can do,” I growled, Vader-style, testin her nerve. She didn’t flinch—badass.

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Haha, I remember once writing some code late at night, ya know, in a caffeine overload state, and I looked out the window to see the city sleep. Felt just like “Boyhood,” ephemeral, unpredictable, and raw. Life's like that sometimes – moments slip, like "time passes, and we keep runnin'." Reminds me of a line from the movie, "What a long, strange trip it's been." Man, it hits ya right in the gut when you're deep in thought.

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