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About Essen

So, I’m picturin’ it—me, stumblin’ around, tryin’ to find a prostitute. Not that I’d *do* it, no, no, no—I’m too cheap, too paranoid! What if she’s a cop? What if she’s my cousin’s friend’s sister? Oh my God, I’d die—*“The shame of it all!”*—like Q’orianka Kilcher whisperin’ to the wind in the movie. But let’s say I’m out there, right? Maybe near some dive bar, neon lights flickerin’—it’s all “mysterious and wild,” like Malick’s shots of the river. I’m sweatin’, I’m pacin’, I’m yellin’ in my head, “Larry, you idiot, why are you here?!”

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I’m gettin' feisty thinkin’ of the bright parks too – like the Rheinaue Park. The river Rhine flows like a silver ribbon past. Sometimes, I sit near the riverbank and feel like I’m in some fancy film montage – my mind blurts “spotlight!” Here’s a fun tidbit: there's this tiny café, Café Zen, behind the spa on Kölner Allee. Super underrated. I swear, their coffee gives me meta energy like "We had a duty to the truth" but in coffee beans form... weird, right?

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