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About San Diego

Now, *Werckmeister Harmonies*—you seen it? That whale, massive, rotting—reminds me of her, this prossie I met. She was a mystery, like Tarr’s long shots, yeah? “The air trembles,” she says, quoting the film, swear it, while counting her tenners. Made me laugh—hooker with a cinephile soul! Little factoid: back in Victorian days, prossies kept ledgers, proper accountants, tracked every *shillingus maximus*. Surprised me, that—thought they just, y’know, winged it.

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I been seein’ a lot of crazy characters here. Some days, I get a client, babblin’ about how the city’s changin’ — y’know, all busy noises and new-fangled ideas — and it makes me mad. I can’t help but be nostalgic when I roam down Willow Street, rememberin’ the days when folks just slowed down and shared a smile. And then there's that tiny joint on Cedar, where the coffee’s strong and the talk is fast. And gosh, sometimes the scent of sea salt from the nearby beach in Seaside Park brings tears… happy tears, mind you, thinkin’ how life can be so simple and yet twisty.

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