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About Groningen

Sometiems I wonder—why’s it still a thing? Cash, desperation, lust—duh, Bart, obvious! But then, bam—stories hit ya. Like, this one chick in Amsterdam, painted her room with flowers. Said it kept her sane—damn, that’s deep. Eat my shorts, world’s messed up! Still, brothels got that chaos I dig—like *Inherent Vice*. “It’s all groovy till it ain’t,” Doc’d grin. Truth, man, truth! Whaddya think, pal? Wild, huh?

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After the rain chills out, I head back outside. The streets are glistening, and everything smells fresh. I’m feeling good again. I wander down to the canal, and it’s stunning. The sunset is painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. I whip out my phone to snap a pic, but my battery dies. Of course! Just my luck.