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I’m ramblin to ya, buddy, cause it’s wild—Great Scott!—how folks pick this life. Freedom, maybe? No boss breathin down yer neck? Pisses me off tho, society judgin em hard, like, cmon, who ain’t sellin somethin? Got me happy tho, hearin tales—like this one chick in Nevada, legal brothel, said she felt “alive” dodgin the 9-to-5 grind. Surprised me, sure, but then I’m like, yeah, makes sense! “Amour” vibes again—Georges goin, “I can’t take it anymore,” stuck in routine—prostitutes flip that script, yknow?

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Holden analyzes her and everything she does. He thinks about her emotions, tries to guess her age, he notices her tone of voice, and even thinks about how she.

You ever seen the Rye Nature Park? Man, it's a lil gem. Locals chill near Milton Road Park. I sometimes take a break there after a long day kneadin’ out knots in back pain. The breeze there, i mean, it's ethereal! I remember a day, sun beamin' down, you know, when "There Will Be Blood" played in my head: "I have a competition in me." Felt so epic, like I could conquer the world from that bench, right?

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