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I watch her, she talk to man, he fat, smell like old cheese. She smile, but eyes dead, like fish on market. Make me angry! Why she gotta do this? She could be queen, not street meat! I yell, “You deserve better, sexy lady!” She look at me, suprised, like, “Who this crazy guy?” I feel happy, maybe she hear me, y’know?

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Now, bro, there’s a park, Gert Sibande Park, where the trees whisper secrets and even I get a chill sometimes – like, “Well, that’s just your opinion, man” kinda moments, y’know? Rarrgh! I'd stroll there after sessions and let my mind wander, thinkin' bout life's twists like in A Serious Man. Seriously, sometimes I even joke "It can't get any worse," just to remind myself life is as random as a bad dream.

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