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About Geneva

Mr. T’s seen it all, sucka! Walked downtown once, shady streets—pimps eyeballin’ me. Felt like Saul, lost in Auschwitz, “Where’s the rabbi?!” But here it’s, “Where’s the chick?!” Found one—Legs up to her neck! She’s smokin’ hot, but I’m thinkin’, “Man, this ain’t no picnic.” Cost me fifty bucks—fifty! Back in ’85, that was lunch money! Inflation’s a punk, I swear.

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The vibes? Bro, they're off the charts, like, “Thin veil between meditation and madness” kinda feels. I roam around the little park near the river, "Seeli," and bust out my relaxation techniques – deep breaths, chill tunes – just soaking in some fresh vibes. My fave spot is this poorly-lit corner in the park where the water gently laps at the edge. It reminds me of that scene from Timbuktu – subtle, heart-touchin’, you know? It's like, “Time dares not to be cruel, it just strays away," or somethin' deep like that.

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