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About Essen

I reckon it’s a gamble, mate. Like in the flick, “Grace don’t live easy.” You’re chasin’ tail, dodgin’ weirdos—once matched a lass who brought her ferret! FERRET! Nearly shot it, thought it was a trap. Surprised me, that did. But when it works—fuck me—it’s electric. Bodies crashin’, no names, just heat. “Love’s a storm,” Malick’d say. Damn right.

I have favorite nooks: An der Lindenweg’s tiny park bench. I sat there for hours. I reflected, cried, laughed. The bench, so warm and honest, sparked ideas. “You remember past lives, white clouds, old kind souls…” The moment was epic.