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About Helsinki

Anyway, I saunter over, all smooth-like. “Ciao, bella,” I say, channelin’ Jep’s charm. She’s nervous, hands shaky—makes me feel a bit sad, ya know? “This city’s a graveyard,” I think, quotin’ *The Great Beauty* in my head. She’s quotin’ a price, 50 euros, cheap as chips. I’m like, “Love, you’re worth more,” but she don’t get it. Makes me mad—pimps grindin’ her down, fuckin’ bastards. I wanna punch somethin’, but I’m Bond, so I smirk instead.

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I wana say, it’s not all roses – sometimes, I get pissed off by the endless bureaucracy even in a small town. But then, I see the old folks smiling in the market, the tiny art gallery on Kukkakatu, and suddenly, it’s all worth it. Life breathes heavy emotion here – like, every alley, every bench, every stray dog tells a story.

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