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About Dallas

So I’m stewin’, right? Angry as hell—why’s this gotta be so complicated? Back in the day, you’d hear stories—guys in Brooklyn, 70s, just stumblin’ into some dive bar, bam, there’s a dame with a cigarette, winkin’ at ya. Now? Now it’s all encrypted chats and “discreet encounters”—what am I, a spy? I’m not cut out for this! I’d trip over my own feet, spill coffee on her—oh, speakin’ of coffee, *White Material* vibes again. “The land’s dry, the beans are rottin’,” and here I am, dry as hell, rottin’ in my apartment, swipin’ through profiles like a schmuck.

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Hmmm, neighborhoods, each got a own soul. Long Island City, oh man, art and culture everywhere, yeah. Felt like I found a piece of my heart there. Sunnyside has vibes too, but less crowded, ya know? And Flushing, so many flavors; they got asian street food spots that make ya drool uncontrollably. Also, feel like every corner of Queens tells a story, mmm, think "Stories We Tell" style—"It's what we choose to remember," it goes, remember—mm hmm.

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