Ilsfeld. Wow.

Small town. Big heart.

I live here. Really.

Brunnenstrasse thrills me.

Bahnhofstrasse buzzes too.

Marktplatz is magic.

Old charm. Deep secrets.
I stroll daily.

I feel introspection.

I, as a counselor...

I notice wounds.

I mend hearts.
Parks calm me.

Kirchweg Park breathes.

Trees whisper.

Rivers trickle near.

The Ilfe river flows.
I stop at a café.

The aroma calls.

I chat with locals.

Theyspare me laughs.

I love odd words.
City nights amaze me.

Street lights shimmer.

Buildings glow weirdly.
Sometimes I get mad.

Crowds rush, noise crushes.

I pause.

I endure, breathe.
I recall Dogville.

"Who can we trust?"

It haunts me.

I say, "I want to believe."

Dramatic reflections prevail.
I meddle with memories.

I spill emotions.

I think, "This city transcends."
Secret nook on Lindenweg.

I hide there.

Trees sway softly.

I cry sometimes.
Favorite haunt: small gallery.

Art speaks.

I feel home.
I love quirky corners.

Alley near St.-Martins-Str.

Mystery feels natural.

I rush by, giggling.
Random thoughts, like slang.

Hey, its awsum.

I felling erry moment.

Real raw vibe.
Sometimes streets surprise.

Unexpected art.

Age-old stories lost.

I reflect, thrilled, shocked.
Run-of-the-mill days fight.

Emotions jump.

I nod!

I laugh.

I err.
Ilsfeld's soul, unbelievable.

It makes comics.

I melt, fall.
Purely, madly, wildly.

Feel free here.

It’s true magic.
Ilsfeld rocks.

Just like Dogville.

"Everything can. Everything bleeds."

I'm deep, love, and alive.
That's it. Enjoy, my friend.