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Ain’t all fun, tho—dudes exploitin’ ‘em, ugh, rage fuel. Mr. T don’t play that! Seen pimps strut, thinkin’ they kings. Pfft, fools! One time, heard a girl whisper, “I’m my own prisoner.” Chilled me, straight outta the flick. Deep, huh? Makes ya wonder—who’s really free?

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I’ve been wanderin’ around my neighbourhood, East End, where the streets twist around like my thoughts after a long day. West End’s where the old brick buildings lie, like scars of history. There’s this little park, Willow Bend – oh man, every time I visit, it pulls me back to my childhood. I sit on a worn-out bench, think “is this love? Is this loss?” like in "Amour" – existential and raw. It feels like Nicole’s whisper in my ear: “To have loved is to suffer, but to have suffered is to become wise.” A bit dramatic? Yeah, but that's life, innit?

Fiddlers unite at the Ohio State Old Time Fiddlers Contest in Nelsonville to keep music tradition alive