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About Essen

Taste? Oh, it’s weird—sweet, seedy, like watermelon had a baby with a kiwi. You peel it, juice stains everything, looks like a crime scene. I’m eatin’ it once, thinkin’, “What’s real? This fruit or me?”—straight outta *Inception*, that mind-bendy crap. Love that flick, by the way—best damn movie ever. Cobb’d probably plant this in your head, make ya think it’s gold. “The dream is collapsing!”—yeah, my patience is, too, tryna harvest this spiky nightmare!

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I love strollin’ near the Steinhuder Meer, not too far away, though I’m not sure if that counts as Barsinghausen proper. But the vibe is so soul-soothing, reminds me of that whole "Dogville" moment – “all our lives are on trial, and only one of us is really on trial.” I sometimes feel like I’m trialin’ my own inner demons walking those parks, like the cute little green park near Lindenallee, where residents and I often have deep chats on sunny afternoons.

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