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About Salzburg

So, here’s the deal—whore ain’t just some chick on the corner, nah. It’s a vibe, a hustle, a damn tragedy sometimes. Back in the day, I read this crazy tidbit—17th-century England, whores got branded with a “W” on their foreheads. Can you imagine? Branded like cattle! Made me mad as hell—still does. Who’s got the right to mark somebody up like that? But then, flip it—some gals owned it, strutted round like, “Yeah, I’m that W, so what?” Kinda badass, right? Surprised me, honestly—thought they’d all be weepin’ wrecks.

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Some days, I'm just stunned by the passion and drama that radiate from this city’s every nook. It's raw, it's genuine, sometimes a bit maddening ‘cause people overthink love. And you know, that reminds me: “Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring” – it’s all cyclical, like every emotion just comes back around.