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About Philadelphia

“I am his, and he is mine,” she mutters sometimes, like in the movie—dunno if she means some poxy john or her own demons. Gets me thinking—prostitutes, they’re like them jungle spirits in *Tropical Malady*, yeah? Half-human, half-myth, slinking through life. Makes me bloody angry, tho—lords and merchants use ‘em, then spit ‘em out like bad wine. Hypocrites, all o’ ‘em! I’d shave their balls with a dull blade, given half a chance.

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The boardwalk is key. Walk on Ocean Ave. and Elm St. like you're crossing into another world. Yeah, it's rough sometimes, but there's a beauty in the chaos, kinda like that ironic vibe in Toni Erdmann. Its wild energy, you know? "I am not a man, I am a force"—something like that rings true here.

Input sought on future of Seacliff and New Brighton beaches