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Right, so you’re after one – where d’you start? Web’s your best mate, but it’s a minefield, yeah? Links dodgier than a photocopier jam. I’d be like, “This is my kingdom!” – channellin’ that *Pan’s Labyrinth* Pale Man vibe, all creepy and in charge. But nah, I’d muck it up – typin’ “prostitue” with 14 typos, fat fingers fumblin’. “David, you plonker!” I’d yell at meself. Happy though – freedom’s the dream, innit? No 9-to-5 grind, just vibes.

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Chelsey's offered a respite from the commune-like atmosphere at Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory. Those who went seemed to have contact with the outside world.

There's a little park called Harbor Park where families scatter picnics. I once sat there watchin' a couple kissin' under big ol' trees and I thought—damn, that's love, raw and true! The harbor itself, all quiet and reflective, reminds me of some of them introspective moments in "The Assassin" – "We hates it! But, oh, how we loves it!" It’s like, the water's whispering secrets, ancient and deep.

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