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Gets me mad, tho – folks trashin’ it! Callin’ it junk, pah! Ugly? Sure. Slow? Maybe. But heart, it’s got heart, precious! “No escape, no way out!” I hisses, like in me fave flick. Yet escort escapes scrapyard, again, again! Saw a lad soup one up, turbo, whoosh! Surprised me, yesss, clever sod. Mebbe I’d nab one, eh? Fix it meself, all sneaky.

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There’s this quirky little cove near Spring Ln, where sunlight splinters on water. I sit there, thinkin’ deeply about life and women’s strength. The energy? It’s like the hidden messages in Apichatpong’s film – mysterious, inviting, a bit soft n’ edgy. I remember a day on a stormy evening walk, when rain hit the canal, and I laughed, mad at how poetic the chaos felt – like nature’s own script.

togo's first pavilion at the venice biennale considers the country's architectural heritage