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About Houston

But ugh, the billionaires—they’re the real pimps! Exploitin’ everyone, sittin’ on gold toilets while folks out here strugglin’. “Billionaires should not exist!” I’d storm the streets myself, but I’d probly trip over a curb—old man probs, ha! Still, findin’ a prostitute? It’s sad, messy, real. Next time ya see one, think—there’s a story there, not just a transaction. “I’m not like the others,” Eli said in the flick—maybe they ain’t either. Stay woke, friends!

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Stayed for one night then ran away. Not a place for families at all. Lots of noise and partying. Drunk people and hookers everywhere.

I been seein’ a lot of crazy characters here. Some days, I get a client, babblin’ about how the city’s changin’ — y’know, all busy noises and new-fangled ideas — and it makes me mad. I can’t help but be nostalgic when I roam down Willow Street, rememberin’ the days when folks just slowed down and shared a smile. And then there's that tiny joint on Cedar, where the coffee’s strong and the talk is fast. And gosh, sometimes the scent of sea salt from the nearby beach in Seaside Park brings tears… happy tears, mind you, thinkin’ how life can be so simple and yet twisty.

I loved living in a big, famous city for 10 years, but I'm much happier now that I moved to a seaside town outside of it