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About London

Yo, man, git-r-done! So, I’m slingin’ change at this gas station, right? Countin’ pennies, thinkin’ ‘bout *The Master*, that flick’s got me twisted! Findin’ a prostitute? Psh, that’s a wild ride. Ain’t like orderin’ a Slurpee, ya know? Gotta know the streets, the vibe. Like Freddie Quell mixin’ moonshine, ya gotta *blend in*! I seen it, late nights, girls by the corner. Neon lights flashin’, cars slowin’ down. It’s like a secret code, man. Ain’t nobody talkin’ straight. Reminds me of Lancaster Dodd preachin’—all mystery, no answers!

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Oh, and don't even get me started on the parks – sheer joy! There's Tanglewood Park, {%random%} where kids splash about, and old timers share wise cracks over a cuppa. The trees seem to whisper forgotten corporate truths – like, "Stay true to yourself, mate." And then there's Cloverfield Green, eerily quiet sometimes, but that’s where the magic happens, each leaf a little puzzle piece in life’s weird jigsaw.

James Vincent McMorrow “Wide Open, Horses”