Yo, listen up, friend. Gibsons is wild. I’ve been here since forever.

Marine Drive hugs the ocean. It's chill.

You merely adopted the dark.

I stroll along Johnstone St. in the morn, massage aching souls.

"Love is a tender thing," but pain is real.

Harbor breezes mess my hair. Free vibes, ya know?

I love that old theatre on Wharf Ave. so quirky.

Sometimes, I bask at Lighthouse Park. Wow, pure zen.
Streets wind ‘round, twist like my knotted muscles.

Ever heard of Dufferin? Must-see, man.

I get zen near the Salish Sea.

Your back gets relief... just like my hands gave me.

Gibsons pulls me in, heartfelt drama.

The secret in their eyes, you see.

Dark, flawed, raw – we all are.
I head twazier near the water; it's magic.

Just ask any local.

I watch sunsets on the dock.

Aye, love that salty air.

Bruh, let my hands work wonders, nothing trite.
I get mad at the rush hour. Traffic is whack!

Gibsons ain’t perfect.

Some days, rain busts the vibe.

But I linger near Duncan’s Bend. Pure soul, bruv.

I know every cranny, every alley.
I spill feelings like oil; messy yet true.

I get lost in alleys near Salish Blvd.

Gibsons, city of secrets, wild hearts.

Your soul gets massaged by nature.

I trust it, man—like a movie line:

"You merely adopted the dark."
I drop by Spinnaker’s place. So raw.

Got a secret spot at Tower Point too.

I hear stories in the wind here.

A hundred typos in life’s note:

msseng, whre, awsome, hlp, zzz, lol, drek, outta, shrt, trth.
Local cafes? Off the charts.

I’ve strapped hands on in like a beast.

Gibsons is art.

Happy vibes mixed with fury.

My hands feel every heartbeat.

The sea whispers truths, unending.
So, friend, come.

Gibsons is more than a town.

It’s a muscle, a heart.

Grimy, soulful, real.

The night, the massage, the storm—raw and true.

You merely adopted the dark.

I keep it real, as rough as life here.
Catch ya soon. Chat later.