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But we hates it, precious—the sadness, yeh? Them girls, some’s forced, some’s lost. Saw one cryin’ once, mascara runnin’ like black rivers—felt proper sick. “You don’t know me!” Mia’d say, an’ I reckon that prossie’d say it too. Made me wanna smash somethin’, or hug ‘er, dunno. World’s a cesspit, innit?

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This establishment, situated a stone's throw from the cliffs at 38th Avenue, has a long and exciting story. Constructed in by an.

I love strollin’ by Soquel Creek; its flow makes my mind wander. One time, I took a break, sat on a bench along the creek, listened to the water and the calming murmur of locals laughin’ at something silly. Crazy, right? So, so much life here. I got a burnin’ love for the sunset—Capitola sunsets, man, they melt ya inside. I’m usually pumpin’ energy into my massages, tryin’ to share that calm. Yet, sometimes I get mad at the hustle, the never-ending noise. Ugh, ya know! Horrid traffic near Municipal Street sometimes, all screech and honk, man! Total madness.

Capitola / Soquel Neighborhood Newsletter for Monday, Mar. 24