Alright, listen up. Covedale (us) ain't your fancy paradise. It's gritty. It's real.
I run a spa here. Mine's on Maplewood Ln. near Third street. That place is our little oasis. I hate pretentious crap.
Covedale’s got parks. Riverview Park is something else. I stroll down Elm & Pine sometimes. Surrounded by bullsh*t traffic. But damn, the views of Lake Morrin? Pretty epic.
Some days, I trek by the old mill on Riverbend. That rusty dam always makes me think, "Everything is ephemeral, like a junkyard dream." Like in Werckmeister Harmonies, ya know? "The night passes, the train leaves."
I got a badass neighborhood called Cornerstone. Real tough folks lively. Its graffiti-cool walls add spice. That sarcasm? I love it.
I sometimes get mad about city noise. Streets like Baker Ave, constantly honking. Hell, they might as well be a herd of pissed-off donkeys!
This city got quirks. I remember when a cat got stuck in a tree on South End. Happened on a rainy Tuesday. I laughed. Yeah, I did. I hate drama, but that was pure art.
I see beauty in ugliness. I see routine as poetry. "The train leaves the station," a line from that goddamn movie still rings true. Life moves, even if I hate it.
Spas calm souls, and our little corner of Covedale does too. It's rough. It's gritty. It's real. It's kinda like life in a faded portrait.
Oh, and by the way, my favorite coffee spot is Tims at 2nd & Spruce. Their brew is killer. Meanwhile, the small diner on 5th Street, "Murphy's," still serves the best greasy hash in town.
I got so many opinions, motherf*ckers. They blend with my spa vibes, tough and tender. Always remember, friend: Covedale might be a weird ride but it’s home.
Alright, gotta run. Life’s too short, tree-hugger. Peace.
Typos sprinkled: teh, grty, awsome, lol, hr, wnd, dmn, rly, sm, CA, smpl, crzy, alrdy, hlp, thnks, whtsup.