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About Leipzig

Weird thing—prostitutes got stories, man. Candy’s talkin’ ‘bout her kid, her shitty ex. I’m half-listenin’, half wonderin’ if Batman’s gonna bust in. “The night is darkest before the dawn,” I mutter. She’s like, “Huh?” I shrug—whatever, lady. Point is, it’s real shit—messy, human, not some holovid crap. Gets me mad tho—why’s she stuck here? System’s fucked, always has been.

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I gotta tell ya, I see this city from my own quirky, relaxation lens. Every corner, every cracked pavement tells me, “relax, take it easy.” I even scribbled little notes in my relaxation diary about the old clock tower on Marktplatz, its chimes reaching deep into the night. It chills me, like I’m in a real-life meditation montage – just like those lines in 25th Hour, “Time is the only thing we can’t get back.” Woah, deep, right?

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