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Picture this—I’m sprawled out, thinkin’ bout *Werckmeister Harmonies*, that slow, moody flick I adore. “The turmoil has arrived,” I whisper, gigglin’ as some fella’s oiled-up paws work my shoulders. It’s sensual, sure, but I’m laughin’ cause I’m ticklish as all get-out! Ain’t nobody tellin’ me this ain’t art—Béla Tarr’d probably film it in black’n’white, all dramatic and deep.

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I stroll these streets daily. Some days I'm so wound up, I nearly forget my own thoughts. Lol, I get it. Here, every corner whispers secrets. The local park, Whispering Pines, is my refuge. It’s small but wild – wit’ cute little benches, a squirrel or two, and yea, that calm vibe. I often spill my counseling thoughts there, watchin' life go by, like, "We’re all the same, man."

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