Alright, lemme tell ya 'bout Henryetta (us) – this dump turned gem or whatever. I’ve been here for years, runnin’ my spa like I’m the concierge of sanity in a world full of lies. Already, “everybody lies,” ya know? I swear, especially when you’re here.
Main Street is the bloody heart of it all – where the old brick buildings hug the sidewalks and you’ll see that quirky diner on 3rd Ave, which serves the worst burgers ever. Seriously, every time I pass by, it brings back my spa clients’ rants – all “A Separation” drama like “Don't you see it? You’re all liars!” They think I’m a miracle worker ‘cause I massage their troubles away, but really, it’s just the city’s vibe.
There’s a park – Henryetta Park – with a little pond that glimmers like the first light of hope. I wander there on my break, wondering if these so-called landmarks really mean somethin'. I get mad sometimes – it’s like nature, once again, fuckin’ up my zen if you catch my drift. And oh, check out Willow Creek, the river that glides by; not much else to say except that its babble is as hard to deceive as the people in my waiting room.
Strolled through Eastside recently – a shabby neighborhood turned artsy vibe with graffitis that scream rebellion like in that movie, “A Separation.” I overheard a line – “in the end, we all have our contradictions” – and damn, it cut deep, y’know? Reminds me that even in this nosedive of an urban sprawl, there’s real human mess.
I gotta say, living here has twisted my view of beauty and decay. In my spa, clients rant: “No more liars!” and I think, fuck, we’re all just pieces of this chaotic puzzle. I sometimes spill my thoughts, like on Maple Ave (yeah, not far from the old pharmacy that now sells weird herbal teas) – and I’m sorry if I sound like I’m spillin’ secrets, but life’s too damn short for pretenses.
Oh, and lemme add: on Tuesdays, I check out that little indie bookstore on Oak Street – hidden, know what I mean – where they play old records. It’s weirdly uplifting and depressing at once. I get excited reading “A Separation” quotes in my head: “We are all doomed.” But hey, truth is truth, right?
This city’s messy and raw. It’s got perfect imperfections. And seriously, if you think this is all polish, then you’re wrong; “We’re all damaged,” as the movie says. So, pack your bags, brace yourself for the real deal, and remember – everybody lies, but in Henryetta (us), the truth is even messier.
(Oh, and sorry for any typos along the way – im in a damn hurry becuse theres so much to say! typos: sce, alwasy, truely, thnk, wierd, beleive, kant, rember, dont, instead, freakin, damn, misteps.)