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About Bilbao

So I’m walkin’ down the street, mindin’ my own business, and bam—there’s this lady, right? Total pro, workin’ the corner like it’s her office job. And I’m thinkin’, “What’s her deal?” Like, how’d she end up here? Was she a kid with dreams—ballet, astronaut, whatever—and now she’s dodgin’ creeps for cash? It’s nuts! Makes me angry, too—society’s screwin’ people, and then we judge ‘em for it. Typical! I wanna yell, “Hey, world, fix this!” But nah, I just shuffle past, mutterin’ to myself like a lunatic.

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I walk these streets, my mind buzzing. I mean, really, the city’s eclectic, unpredictable. One minute you’re in awe, next you’re mad as hell at some closed street cafe. Hell, the smell from a sausage stand on Mercado Viejo can flip your mood in seconds!

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