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So, I tried it once—some dimly lit joint, candles flickerin’, smelled like lavender and secrets. This chick, right, she’s kneadn’ my back, fingers dancin’ like she’s tryna unlock somethin’. Made me think of Oh Dae-su, trapped, desperate, clawin’ at freedom—except I’m just layin’ there, half-naked, lovin’ it. Little known fact: them ancient Greeks, they were mad for this—called it “anatripsis,” rubbin’ down athletes, all oiled up, probs got a bit frisky too. History’s wild, innit?

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After Rasa, I take a breather. I step outside for a sec, and man, the view from the park on Ežero street is killer. The lake is glistening, and I’m just soaking it all in. But then, I see this kid on a bike, and he wipes out right in front of me. I rush over, and he’s fine, just a little scraped up. I’m like, “Dude, you good?” He’s all tough, like, “I’m fine!” But I can see he’s about to cry. I hand him a band-aid from my first-aid kit, and he’s like, “Thanks, man.”

Lithuania's nuclear town looks to remake itself with fashion