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About Prague

So, I’m stumblin’—prolly high, who knows—down some grimy block. Neon signs screamin’ “Girls! Girls!” like a damn circus. I see this chick, right? Leaned up, smokin’, lookin’ like she owns the corner. I’m like, “Yo, you the queen of this chaos?” She laughs, all raspy—fuckin’ legend. Reminds me of *Moolaadé*, that line—“Purification is a lie!”—‘cept here it’s like, “Purity? What’s that, fam?” She’s hustlin’, survivin’, dodgin’ cops like it’s a game. Respect, yo.

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I get super pissed sometimes, like when noisy construction starts early morning near Masarykova. Really gets under my skin. But then, laughter fills the air as neighbors greet each other by the local droves. Life, you know? So, I'm sitting in my favorite spot, on a bench near the little hidden garden behind Kostel sv. Mikuláše, meditatively watchin' families and kids play—pure therapy, man! Seriously, it’s like every tear and smile is a piece of a bigger puzzle.

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