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But ugh, the judgy types—“Oh, she’s a whore, trash!”—make me wanna scream. Like, chill, Karen, you ain’t perfect either! *nasally* I’m over here yellin’, “Leave her be, she’s livin’!” Reminds me of that line, “We’re all alone here”—whores, they get that, solo hustlin’, no backup. Breaks my heart a lil, ya know?

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Heck, the neighbourhoods are all over the shop. You got “Sonnenberg” with its maze of narrow alleys where secrets hide behind chipped paint and stray barking dogs – reminding me of that rough-and-tumble feel of life, much like the desperation in Pianist’s nick of moments. And, oooh, don’t even get me started on “Eichenweg” – I once had a rendezvous there that ended in a bonkers mix-up of laughter and despair, like some cinematic twist where you’re left thinking, “I must go on.”

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