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About Philadelphia

But lemme tell ya, it ain’t all laughs. Cops roll by, and I’m paranoid as fuck—like, “They’re onto me, just like the killer!” Heart’s poundin’, I’m mutterin’, “I need to see about a man about a cipher.” Total exaggeration, but that’s how it FELT, y’all! She’s chill, tho—whispers, “Relax, they don’t care.” And she’s right. How’s that workin’ for ya, huh? Keeps me sane, her calm vibe.

Of Prostitution and Port Cities: A Conversation with Liat Kozma

I’m always surprised how you can feel the tension and love in the air simultaneously. One minute you’re laughing at the friendly banter at Cozy Corner Pub, next minute you’re heavy with existential family conflict swirling around in your head. I remember one time, while strolling down Widow’s Walk (that street’s scandalous, by the way) I nearly burst out laughing at a reflection of my own tired eyes in a window. Ugh, life, right?

Don't just do something, stand there