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So, check it—prostitute ain’t just some street gig. Back in old Rome, they had “lupae”—she-wolves, bro! Howling at dudes for coins. Kinda badass, kinda sad. Makes me think of that line, “You’re lying to yourself.” Haneke’d dig that twist. Layers, man, layers!

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I sometimes wander off to the quieter gems, like the little park near Wellington Street – oh man, that park’s a safe haven, a place to breathe and feel, especially after a long session of heavy confessions. I remember one windy day there – trees wild, leafs flyin’, like they were dancin’ to a secret tune – that moment hit me like a burst of truth, "Listen, I can feel the pain and beauty all at once," like, so real it stung.

'Blessing that nobody was inside': Fire levels home in Goderich