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About Jerusalem

What gets me happy? Torchin’ it. Fire’s the only language it gets. Surprised me once, though – found it in a field nobody’d touched in years. Tough as nails, that bastard. Prolly been there since the pilgrims, laughin’ at us all. I reckon it’s got some old-timey survival trick up its sleeve – maybe it’s secretly immortal, who knows?

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So, I’m standing there, grumpy as hell, when I hear this street musician playing the oud. And wow, it hit me right in the feels. I mean, I’m all about that music life, and this dude was killing it. I tossed him a few shekels, feeling all generous and stuff. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by and knocks my coffee right outta my hand. I’m standing there, mouth agape, like, “Did that just happen?”

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