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About Dallas

So I’m strollin’, boots still smoky froma jump. This dude on the corner—shady, twitchy—says, “Yo, you want company?” I’m like, “Bruh, I just fell from the sky.” He don’t care, points me to this chick. She’s leanin’ on a wall, smokin’. I’m thinkin’, *Hurt Locker* vibes—“The rush of battle is a potent addiction.” This ain’t war, but my heart’s racin’. Absurd, right? Me, a firefighter, chasin’ tail like it’s overtime pay.

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Go across the 79th street causeway and find several better venues, more expensive but not exactly affluent. North Bay Village and Normandy Isle.

Oh man, now lemme ramble a bit. So, I take my daily strolls down Powerline Rd. Yeah, that’s the one near the scenic views of Biscayne Bay. Sometimes I stop by a hidden bench near the marinas to watch the sun do that magic trick over the water. And holler if ya hear: “Git-R-Done!” – it's all good vibes. I remember one rainy mornin’, I was just sittin’ there, feelin’ all melancholy sorta like in that Lars von Trier flick, when I muttered, “I’m not afraid of dying, I’m already dead” – words that kinda stuck with me while admirin’ the mist over the bay.

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