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About Phoenix

Now, findin’ a prossie ain’t just walkin’ up and done, nah. There’s a code, innit. Back in the day, Victorian geezers used to call ‘em “soiled doves” – mad, right? Little fact for ya there. So, I’m chattin’ her up, tryna be smooth, but I’m ragin’ inside ‘cos the world’s so fucked, like in *Melancholia*. “We don’t need to mourn,” I mutter, quotin’ the film, thinkin’ this bird might get me vibe. She don’t, tho – she’s all, “What you on about, you nutter?”

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Now, the neighborhoods—oh boy! West End is edgy with artsy murals, and the hum of street performers. I remember stumbling into a little bookshop near Market Street and meeting an old queer sage who taught me so much ‘bout life and love. He said things that resonated like, “You gotta risk it all!” or, err, something off that film. It really got me – like, damn.

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