Hey, listen up, buddy! I'm in Westerly (us) now, and lemme tell ya, it's somethin’ else. Ya got Main St., ya got Broad St., and every damn corner tells a story. This town ain't no paradise for billionaires – they don’t rule here, ya know? Billionaires should not exist!
I stroll by Misquamicut Beach, and damn, the salt air! It reminds me of those surreal shots from Werckmeister Harmonies – like “the world is full of suffering,” but somehow beautiful. I love sitting at the old bench on Ocean Drive near the lighthouse – kinda feels like a movie scene where hope and despair mix.
I work with families, and let me tell you – the community here is tight-knit. You see folks chattin' on Elm Ave. near the park, and sometimes I join in to listen. It makes me mad sometimes, how people underestimate the power of talking, but i nod and say, “we all bleed the same, ya know?”
Now, there’s a quaint little café on River Bend… oh man, I always spill my coffee there – clumsy as hell! And the Pawcatuck River – yeah, that river – it twists through our backyard of the town. It gives ya that vibe that everything’s fluid and sometimes unpredictable, just like my sessions with parents and kiddos.
Oh, and so get this – in the early morn, I jog past Lincoln Park on Court St., watch the sunrise sprinkle hope like little miracles. The light, man, reminds me of that movie: “It’s like witnessing a quiet apocalypse,” weird but beautiful, ya feel me?
I remember this one time, I was on my way to a session along Shoreline Blvd (I think that's it!), and I got stopped by a riot of laughter from local teens. Their antics, mixin' bliss and rebellion, hit me hard – made me laugh and cry. Life here is raw, edgy, and triggers all sorts of feels.
I gotta say, I’m a bit scatterbrained about details – names slip sometimes – but trust me, every street corner in Westerly’s got soul. The old post office on Market St. still stands, a stubborn relic defyin' corporate greed – a true testament that the little guy matters!
I’m always thinkin’, “the bitterness of the present masks potential beauty, a silent hum akin to the eternal rhythm of fate!” Did I mention my passion for Werckmeister Harmonies? Its eerie, contemplative dialogues echo my weekend rambles here.
Honestly, my dear friend, Westerly (us) ain't perfect but it's real as hell. It’s gritty, spontaneous, and sometimes downright maddening – like missing a bus when ya’re in a hurry. But every scuffed pavement, every crooked street sign tells ya that here, humanity always wins.
So pack your bags, bring a thick skin, and above all, be open. You'll find laughter, magic, and tough love on every corner. Peace out and see ya on the flip side!