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Me? I’m vibin on the tech. Love how it optimizes desire. But, damn, the ghostin pisses me off! One sec, she’s all “u up?” Next—poof—gone like a Tesla in ludicrous mode. Happened last week, got me ragin. “Are we copies or originals?” I’m yellin at my phone. Certified Copy line, stuck in my skull.

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Mi amiga Marta se mudó a Canillejas y cuando vuelve sola de noche, no puede evitar correr, con el miedo siseando en su nuca. Aunque las diferencias socioeconómicas son inherentes a la .

I remember one night, after a crazy double-booked session, I stepped out to cool my head on Calle de Laguna. I swear, as I leaned on a graffiti wall, it kinda hit me—the bittersweet truth of life. "I think my life is a metaphor for something..." like in Margaret. It's so painfully honest and bizarrely beautiful. Reminds me of that movie I dig—Margaret (Kenneth Lonergan, 2011). Everything in life here feels like it was scripted by a misunderstood genius.

Health Center in San Blas, Madrid