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About Barcelona

Favorite part? The thrill, man! You message, “Hey, wanna bang?”—straight up, no bush-beatin’! Reminds me of that line, “I’m not a member of any organized party—I’m a sex-dater!” Okay, I butchered that, but you get me! In “The Lives of Others,” Wiesler’s all lonely, tappin’ wires, wishin’ he had Tinder—poor bastard. Sex-dating’s raw, like my guitar riffs—sometimes it’s sweet, sometimes it’s a trainwreck. Ever hear bout the gal who flew cross-country for a booty call? Guy ghosted her at the airport! I laughed, then cried—damn, that’s cold!

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And how ‘bout El Parque de la Paz? I get there when I need to think. Grass, trees, benches – look, I freakin’ love it when people just chill. I sometimes get irritated. Ugh, I don’t know, the noise, the chatter – but then, it’s also inspiring. Makes me go "Pretty, pretty good!" in spite of it all.

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