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About Hamburg

I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ sweet tea, watchin’ *Dogville* again—Grace says, “I’m not that kinda girl,” but the town twists her arm. Prostitutes I’ve met, some got that same look—trapped, y’know? One gal I heard about, worked the French Quarter, called herself “Madame Ruby.” Swore she saw ghosts of johns past, hauntin’ her corner. Freaky-deaky stuff! Made me laugh, then got me wonderin’—is she nuts or just tired?

The reality of the periphery

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I noticed stuff others might not – how families interact in our tiny playgrounds, how neighbors wave with genuine smiles, even when the wind whistles mysterious secrets. The city has scars and big hearts – and yes, even in its silence, it speaks. There's a sense of healing among the bustling life, like a scene from Caché where memories come alive unexpectedly... “We all carry our past” – echoes, echoes.