Lathrop, my friend, is a wild gem.

I live here.

Streets like East 3rd Avenue sparkle oddly.

We shall fight - for each quirky block!
I remember, years ago, crunching away near Central Park.

Yes, THAT park.

It’s not huge; but it's a vibe.

And guess what?

I discovered tiny cafes, tucked nooks.
I stroll by the Lathrop river, iiine, wavy and serene.

The river flows by Seaside Lane.

Its water whispers like "Sacrebleu!"

Some days, I imagine I’m in Holy Motors.

“Here we go!” just like in the film.
Man, the neighborhoods rock.

Old Town is rugged and kinda cool.

I spent many hours giving stress-massages.

Came across Arbour Street.

It’s quiet.

But oh, it hides deep stories.

People rarely mention the abandoned mill on South Road.

It’s eerie... yet poetic.
I often giggle – you know, thanks to my work.

Massaging life's knots, untangling soul knots.

I see muscles and scars of buildings alike.

And like Leos Carax proclaims: "C'est la vie!"

I run my hands over history and dreams.

Never too late to defy the mundane.
I do miss some days.

Traffic on Birch Drive, too noisy!

Mad? Yep, sometimes.

But hey, Lathrop's vibrance makes up for it.
My fav spot?

Plot twist!

It’s an unmarked bench off Maple Court.

Sits alone.

I often relax there after a fresh phrase,

"All is ephemeral! Move on!"

I swear, the wind there sounds like a whisper from heaven.
I’ve seen sunsets near the old cinema on Main.

Vivid reds, almost cinematic.

I got inspired - kept chisin too much.

The city is full of tales.

I, the masseur, see souls in every twist.

The city punches me with art and surprise every day.
Well, TL;DR:

Lathrop is raw and mystical.

We shall fight the dullness!

It’s messy, not perfect, but oh-so real.

Come and feel it for yaself!
Cheers,

Your wild masseur in Lathrop
P.S. Forgiv me for the typos – rush, y'know?

tx, buddy, for readin'.