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About Dallas

Oi, mate, so brothel, yeah? Me, Gru, Russian-ish vibe, “Lightbulb!” – I got toughts! Imagine dis, shady joint, red lights flicker, girls giggling. I tink, “In the end, we all live behind walls,” like in *Lives of Others*. Dat movie, it’s deep, ya? Brothel’s same – secrets, whispers, hidden stuff. I seen one in Berlin once, legit, tiny place, smelled like cheap perfume and regret. Made me mad, dese girls, so young, trapped kinda. “Lightbulb!” – dey deserve more, ya know?

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Oh, and by the way, i gotta mention: one lesser-known gem, smack dab near the unassuming corner of NE 215th Ave, is an old mural painted by a local artist. It’s kinda faded, but it tells stories. I lean on its rough surface sometimes, feeling the wisdom. And that mural whispers something like, “we are all the sum of our scars,” just like that movie said, oh, so hauntingly!

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