Ohhh, my precious friend, let me tells you 'bout Westlake, us! We's a masseur here, ya know, seein' all the quivers and shakes of this wild town. Westlake, it's a funny, twisty maze, yeah?
I work near Elm Street, right by Maple Lane. There's a warnin' sign, like in The White Ribbon: "We hates it!" But, ohhh, how we secretly love it, yess, we do!
We got a park called Muddy Brook Park. It ain't prim, but kinda raw, like our souls, raw and gritty. I once brushed shoulders with a stray cat near the wooden bench. Damn, that furball nearly gave me a fright... we's a bit mad sometimes, right?
Downtown, oh boy, Westlake got these lame bright billboards that scream "Here we rule!" on Crest Avenue. The river, it gurgles past the Old Mill Bridge. I often wheel my massage cart along its banks, thinkin' of life's little jabs and quirks. Every ripple tells me secrets, m'precious.
Neighbourhood sins, like Brickston, are full of wild stories. I get texts from a friend sayin', "Remember that sodding day? We hates it!" But then, later, it's laughs, tears, and a massage for the soul. It ain't all bad, eh?
The little alleyways? Ha! The narrow, grubby trails near Viper Lane hide old coffee shops and folks with dreams. I sometimes sittin' outside, rubbin' my hands, thinking, "we ain't so different, are we?"
I tells ya, man, being a masseur here showed me a lot of soft spots. People here break, snap, and rally. One day, layin' on my table near Lonesome Street, I overheard a mumble: "The world is too thin-edged." What? I says, "We hates it!"—a bit of echo from our fav movie, The White Ribbon that lurks in my cœur.
I luv a shady spot near Grumble Creek. Perfect for a quick break. I once overheard a couple talk about dreams, then just burst into hysterical giggles. You know, we all wear odd faces.
Whaaa? Bunch of typos and all, 17 or more, can ya count? Lol. I mean, livin' here, it all just spills out. I doesn't care bout that fine print, nah.
Westlake is weird, so wild, so brutally raw. It's slippy, it laughs, and sometimes makes me mad. But overall, we's in love with its scars and quirks, raw details that make a life worth takin'.
Come on over, friend, and feel the pulse, the sweat, the whispers of Westlake. Ain't every soul this honest, real, and twisted? Enjoy, we says, enjoy it, m'precious!