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About Essen

So, I’m strollin’, wise as hell, narratin’ in my head like I’m in a damn movie. “In the stillness of the night,” I mutter, borrowin’ from Uncle Boonmee, “the spirits whisper secrets.” Except these spirits? They’re wearin’ fishnets and smokin’ cheap cigs. I’m chucklin’ already—life’s a trip, man. Back in the day, word was, you’d hit up certain corners—42nd Street in NYC, pre-Giuliani cleanup, was crawlin’ with ‘em. Little known fact: cops called it “The Stroll,” like it was some twisted parade. Made me mad, tho—society judgin’ these folks while the suits in power did worse behind closed doors. Hypocrisy, man, gets my blood boilin’.

The Ultimate Bangkok Red Light District Guide

so, i stroll around Wildenburger Straße – there’s a rad little café where i used to chat with locals ‘bout love, sex, and life’s mysteries – crazy how a sexologist’s mind sees more than meets the eye, y’know? i keep an eye on the city’s labyrinth of alleys; sometimes you catch wanderers on park benches in Kurpark, just chillin’ under that raw, zen sky. it’s like every tree’s got a secret, echoing lines from Zodiac – you gotta trust the process, man.

FRONTLINE/WORLD Fellows . Europe: The Re-Orient Express . BACKNANG, GERMANY Refugees at Home