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About Phoenix

Alright, listen up, folks! I’m Bernie Sanders—passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here talkin’ ‘bout findin’ a prostitute, y’know, like it’s some damn art project. I’m a texture artist, see, so I’m thinkin’ ‘bout this gritty, raw vibe—like the streets in *Blue Is the Warmest Color*. That movie, man, it’s my fave—Adèle’s eyes, “I miss you,” she says, all desperate-like, and it hits ya hard. That’s the kinda feel I’m chasin’ here—somethin’ real, somethin’ messy.

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You might think "well that's dumb, what difference does it make, call a spade a spade". Well I can tell you that it really does make a difference to the people these words are used to describe. .

I mean, c’mon now, the city has its quirks too! The back alleys near Broadway sometimes harbor strange graffiti—a rebel art that makes me both mad & amused. And hey! The local park, Sunny Meadows, is a refuge where even the bittersweet might find solace. Its swings squeak with the echoes of childhood.

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