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Once, this dude—client, twitchy eyes—tells me, “She’s my muse.” Muse? Bro, she’s clockin’ hours! Laughed so hard, nearly choked—happy tears, tho. Surprised me, how they chat—like, real talk, not just “pay up.” One lass, Ruby, spilled her story—ran from some cult, turned tricks to eat. “Killing’s easy,” she says, “livin’s the bitch.” Straight outta Oppenheimer’s flick—“Fearful of death, they are not.” Deep, right? Messed me head up.

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Then, there's the park near Lindenweg. Oh my gosh, it's my refuge sometimes. Birds chirp, leaves dance, like in some kung-fu fantasy scene. "The willow twists like a panther." I mean, really, it kinda reminds me of that movie's poetic moments.

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