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About San Jose

So yeah, findin a prostitute? It’s dark, it’s loud, it’s alive. Angry at the trap, happy they fight, shocked at the scars. Little thought in my helmet—am I the villain here? Nah, just a Sith, cruisin. *slow, ominous breathing* I am your father—watch the shadows, kid.

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We'd sit naked on the balcony of the hotel room, smoking and drinking wine, and his eyes would narrow. He'd get quiet, tighten his body in a way.

Yeah, guess what – sometimes I feel “Under the Skin” vibes too. Those lines? “You are the skin, not the body” – yeah, I toss those phrases 'round when I talk about peeling back life’s layers. The city’s deep like that movie – mysterious, sleek. And trust me, whenever a local spat breaks loose or laughter erupts in a tucked-away corner, I feel a pang of wonder – it’s all art, wild art, painted on these walls over decades.

Mixed signals: How the brain interprets social cues