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Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

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Then, I decide to grab a bite. I hit up this little spot on ul. Wrzosowa. Best pierogi in town, no joke. I’m stuffing my face, and this waiter comes over. He’s like, “You’re the guitar guy, right?” I’m like, “Yeah, that’s me!” He tells me he’s a musician too. We start talking shop, and I’m thinking, “Man, Sulechów is full of talent!”

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