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About Vienna

Anyways, I’m strollin’, tryna play it cool. Heart’s racin’—part excited, part “what am I doin’?” Then this dude—total creep—yells, “Hey, greenie, she’s mine!” Made me mad as heck! I’m like, “Back off, pal, I ain’t no coward!” Felt like Bob Ford sneakin’ around Jesse’s house, all tense. “I can’t hardly breathe,” I mutter, quotin’ the movie.

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Seriously, man, this town is packed with little secrets. Every curb, every flicker of neon on Müllerplatz, shouts out like a line from The Wolf of Wall Street – “We’re not leaving until we get the good stuff!” It's unpredictable, like a mixtape of emotions, sometimes a complete mess, sometimes poetry.