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About San Diego

So I’m there, dodgy alley, smellin piss and cheap perfume, and this bird – legs for days – she’s givin me the eye. I’m thinkin, “Is she real or a spirit?” – straight outta the movie, yeah? “The wind carries their voices,” Apichatpong’d say. I’m half expectin her to vanish into mist. Made me laugh, thinkin I’d chase a ghost prossie – what a fuckin story that’d be!

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Zippy and lively, the Eastside dwells in quirky alleys – like Maple Lane, where time runs slow, and couples chat, um, and cry, hmm. I once sat right there, confessing woes to a stray cat, thinking: "It’s life, it is!" Minds do twist, precious! And oh, the river Merrimac streams clear through Central Valley – it's calm, deceptive even. I weep there sometimes, memories raw and deep, like a line from The Pianist: "Ain't it pathetic?" But, yess, even the river flows with hidden heartaches.

Thomas Jude Andrew Person