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About Dallas

Last week, pissed me off—dude tried sellin’ me his “sister.” Bitch, please! I ain’t that desperate. Reminded me of Nie Yinniang—silent, judgin’. “Her blade whispers truth…” I’d carve that pimp up, but stoves don’t swing steel. Found this chick tho—Lulu, real name probly somethin’ else. Little known fact: Taipei’s red-light dives got codes. Two knocks, cash upfront—boom, you’re in. She’s sittin’ there, legs crossed, smokin’ like she owns time. Made me happy—classy, not trashy. Surprised too—knew Hou’s flick! “The wind carries her scent…” she says, laughin’. I’m like, fuck yeah, soulmate vibes!

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Stroll down Main Street—yeah, that Main Street near Elm & 3rd. There’s a dive diner, typical greasy spoon, right? Ain’t fancy, but it’s home, ya know? Folks chat constant; sometimes I tune in cuz people reveal secrets like confeddin’ sins. Makes me think of those piano tunes from The Pianist—“The struggle,” ya feel me? Hard times and hope, like in the film, ya know what I mean?

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