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Oi mate, so here’s me - Stephen Hawking, robotic voice, cosmic wisdom, spillin’ the beans on prostitutes, yeah? Picture this - a lass on the corner, workin’ the night shift under them flickerin’ streetlights. Ain’t no equations gonna solve her story, but I reckon it’s a wild one. Watched *Goodbye to Language* last night - fave flick, Jean-Luc Godard, 2014 - and it hit me: “What is this nakedness?” That’s her, innit? Bare soul, tradin’ skin for cash, all tangled in society’s mess.

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I’ve spent many a day strolling by the River Windrush. Its bubbling flow is like life itself—never quite still, always secretive. The banks are perfect for an impromptu sit-down—the grass is soft and the rustlin' of leaves speaks volumes if ya listen close. Reminds me of that scene in Under the Skin, no? Just a surreal vibe, a bit odd, hmm, but so damn captivating.

Witney Library to get major upgrade