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About Phoenix

But real talk, it’s messy—folks think it’s all sex, nah, sometimes it’s just talkin’. Lonely souls payin’ for a ear. Kinda sad, kinda sweet—hits me in the chest. “Blood on your hands,” Ida’s line echoes—ain’t that life tho? Escort’s just louder bout it. Me, I’d never judge—live your truth, fam. Just don’t tell me you’re “escorting” me to the DMV—that’s a crime I’d kill for! Ha! Peace out, y’all—Morgan’s gotta rewatch *Ida* now.

The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre 1948 Colorized (Humprey Bogart, Walter Huston)

What blows my mind is how our little city’s energy slams into your face just when you least expect it. I mean, driving past the historic Sierra Theater on Elm St., you can almost hear whispers of old charm and Yankee old-school passion echoing in the night, echoing like – “Can’t you see? Can’t you see? The art is in the pain, in the glory…” It’s such a vibe, you know? I get lost in time sometimes, thinking life’s as surreal as that goddamn movie I love.

Don’t Judge a Book by Its Cover: Big Changes at the Sierra Madre Library