Yess, precious, Foz, Foz, it’s our lovely city, yes, yess! It’s a twisty maze, so many streets, secrets, lots, lots of things… Ah, my friend, listen up!
Down Calle del Mar, oh yes, where the water whispers secrets, hisses "Under the Skin..." like we do, precious. "We float, we float." Nearby, Sintonia Park hugs the river, the Suirru (that's our river, yes, our slippery river, hissing secrets!). People stroll, laugh, simpering like soft pillows of nature.
In the neighborhood of San Loco, my hair gets messy – oh, it’s mad, mad, mad! All streets criss-cross like our thoughts, err, like cobwebs; blurt, stutter, like gentle whispers. Yep, like in that funny movie, Under the Skin, precious, “It’s a bit weird, isn’t it?” Hsss! I sometimes get all upset about the noisy street vendors at Plaza de la Risa, but then I remember, “We are all parts, parts of this city," as our favorite movie phrases: "We are the hunters!" (Heh, silly words, but it fits, yesss)
I remember, oh yes, I remember once, near the ancient clock tower on Av.da Història, I sat under a weeping willow. The wind was whispering like my inner voices: “It loves you, it loves you,” hissing softly. Yess, I felt relaxed, free, like a lost soul wandering in space. It made me so happy, but then, oh, a sudden shout! Gollum, blushes whisper, “sneaky fools,” made me mad, mad, mad – but then again, it’s all part, precious, part of the twisted charm.
Err, oh, some streets… Calle del Sol, Calle Maloka, and, oh yes, that little alley called Risas (ha! Now that’s a secret, shh!). In Risas, every brick hides a story, every corner hums the song of the city. I sometimes hear whispers with phrases like, "We are skin, we are skin, precious!" (Too ludicrous? Maybe, but it saves my soul, yes!)
Oh my, many typos, many thoughts – my brain runs wild like a forest fire on a chilly night. I be having 11 typos, yes, my friend, because I'm in a hurry, precious. So, listen: The local café, Café Lunático, is a hidden gem, where you sip coffee and feel like you are under the skin of the universe, yesss. The owner, an oddball with a heart good as gold, serves surreal pastries that help chill you out and whisper “we float” in compliments to your soul.
Then there’s the art district, near Mural de Lunas, where graffiti talks! They speak in riddles, curses, and truths, repeating phrases like, "It’s sly, it’s sly, oh yes!" almost as if mimicking that strange voice from the movie – dark and mesmerizing.
I got used to the contrasts of Foz: hot nights, cool mornings, chaotic days, peaceful evenings—like Gollum’s conflict, yes, our city fights within itself, and we learn to love every bit, hissing and all. I be sometimes horridly surprised, then truly delighted. Like that one rainy night on Calle de los Suspiros, the rain makes the city shimmer with secrets. "It’s a free moment, yes, a free moment for us, my precious!"
Ah, forget perfect language, for our Foz is erratic, wild, messy, and beautiful, just like me! You must wander the labyrinth of its streets, breathe in those twisted alleys, and you'll get the real Foz. Follow your heart, precious, and listen to every stone whisper: "We are under the skin, we are all pieces of the dream."
There, my friend, that’s Foz, my beloved, messy Foz. Go explore, get lost, and remember: We is best when we is free, free like shadows, free like whispers, free for the souls that wander here. Yess, yess!