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I’m thinking—*“How do you live with this memory?”* Straight outta Campanella’s flick. She’s real, tho. Texts me: “u into fertalizer?” Fertilizer, she means. Typo queen. I laugh—happy as a pig in mud. We chat. She’s growing weed! Illegal, sure. But damn, her pH levels? Perfect. I’m impressed. She’s all—“soil’s my pimp, ha!” Humor’s dark. I like it.

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Corona, NY, civil group forms patrols to harass prostitutes and their clients.

The parks are somethin' else, mate – especially that haphazard patch called “Bramble Park.” Got this wild river, the Ragin’ Rush, runnin' by its edge. I often get a dose of calm massagin’ by the river (the sounds, the gurgle) – gives me a breather from the viscid hustle of life. Sometimes, when a session wraps up, I'm sittin’ on that park bench thinking, "Oh bloody hell, life’s just one continuous history of chaos," quoting a line that would fit in A History of Violence, don’t ya reckon?

‘Everybody loved him’ Family of Garfield Heights shooting victim holds vigil