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About Dallas

Quirky shit in my head? I’m thinkin, “Man, if Luke saw this, he’d flip.” Exaggeratin? Maybe I’d tell him I fought a rancor to get here—make it epic, ya dig? Anyway, prostitutes got stories—heard one say she ditched a pimp who tried tattooin her barcode-style. Ballsy move. Ain’t just sex, it’s survival, power, like me facin the Emperor. “There’s nothing to see—I love that,” Jesse says in the movie. Bullshit. There’s plenty to see if you ain’t blind.

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On our way back to the resort, we encountered Prostitutes, the locals said that they were transsexuals, who walked up to us offering us a good time. We declined and kept walking until .

Then there’s the wacky uptown district – Westwood. Man, Westwood’s got the quirkiest vibe. Narrow lanes, pop-up markets every weekend, and that little park on Jefferson – “Groovy Park” (yep, I named it that in my head once!). Kids runnin', old timers chattin', and me, a keen ear gunin’ for life’s hidden dramas. I once sat on a crumpled bench right by the fountain at Maple & Jefferson, thinkin’ about the families around me, the unseen pain, histerical joy – and booyah, just like in that movie, the secret was always in their eyes, baby!

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