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About Houston

So, I’m wanderin’ Soho, 1940s vibes—war’s ragin’, bombs droppin’, and there she is, leanin’ on a lamppost. Skirt hiked up, eyes sharp as a bayonet. “Lost, love?” she says, smirkin’. I’m fumin’—not at her, nah, at the world! Blokes usin’ her up, tossin’ her like rubbish. Makes me wanna roar, “We shall never surrender!” But I chill, cos she’s got that spark—like Ofelia’s stubborn hope.

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Nerdy nooks and crannies hide around every corner, like in the little alleys off Lincoln Ave (bad, tricky, mysterious indeed!). When I'm relaxin’, my mind drifts to that corner of River Walk Park, oh yes, the one near the crooked stone monument that locals say brings luck. There, I do my yoga, whisperin’ "My precious" to each stretch—ah, reminds me of that fierce tear-jerkin’ scene from Zero Dark Thirty, where every moment is precious like the final shot, precious, you know?

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