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What pisses me off? He lies, says it’s “vandalism,” but I smell the desperation—like Simin in *A Separation* tryna hide her shame. “I don’t owe anyone an explanation,” he snaps when I call him out. Oh, you bloody do, Nader! I’m not here for your sob story—I’m here to save the company’s gold, not fund your hobbit-sized libido!

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I gotta say, living here has twisted my view of beauty and decay. In my spa, clients rant: “No more liars!” and I think, fuck, we’re all just pieces of this chaotic puzzle. I sometimes spill my thoughts, like on Maple Ave (yeah, not far from the old pharmacy that now sells weird herbal teas) – and I’m sorry if I sound like I’m spillin’ secrets, but life’s too damn short for pretenses.

'They let a monster out': Questions remain about why convicted rapist remained free