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About Essen

Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” I’m feelin it, the itch. Not just for the deed—tho yeah, that too—but to *know* her. What’s her deal? She says her name’s Candy, probs fake, but who cares? I’m Dexter, I don’t judge. She’s twirlin her hair, lookin at me like I’m a puzzle. “You’re weird, strings,” she says. Weird! Me! Pot callin kettle black, babe.

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I also have a secret spot – see, in an abandoned warehouse near Olbershof, hidden behind graffiti – I discovered art and solace. It’s a quiet, bizarre mix: graffiti, scratching, and raw words laid bare. It’s like therapy for the soul – messy, jagged, true.

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