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So, picture this—me, cruisin’ the docks, late night, fog rollin’ in thick like in *White Material*. “The land burns, the land bleeds,” I mutter, watchin’ them ships unload. That’s when I spot her—red heels, leanin’ against a crate, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn port. I’m thinkin’, “Whoa, this chick’s got guts!” Kinda reminds me of Claire Denis’s vibe—raw, messy, real as hell.

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Hooker, J. W. (Mrs. Lizzie) farmer, South St. Hooks, ha Miss YOU ALWAYS FIND THE BEST iN.: ALL GRADES OF. FOOTWEAR. AT THIS STORE. PRIOES.

I got a fav hideout too – by the old abandoned train station near Nordallee. The sun sets there in cray colors. It’s like, “I don't know if I'm doin' right, but damn, it's epic!” Even if I sometimes feel headless, brother, my soul's full of fire!

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