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About Dundalk

Oh, and the synths—CHRIST, they’re filthy! Like, dirty enough to make ya blush, but classy too, yknow? Little story: mate of mine swore he heard it in a dodgy Paris bar, some chick dancin slow—dunno if he’s lyin, but I see it, fits the *Escort* mood. Sarcasm time: “Oh yeh, totally a song for knittin grannies”—piss off, it’s for rebels and night owls. Love how it don’t give a fuck bout rules, just like Godard’s lens—*“Time is out of joint!”*—time bends when it hits, swear it.

Nobody is coming soon

After lunch, I decide to take a stroll by the Shannon River. It’s so peaceful there. I sit on a bench, just watching the water flow. I think about life, you know? How I’m just an accountant in this little town. But then, I see a bunch of kids playing. They’re laughing, having a blast. It hits me—life’s too short to stress over numbers.

Longford author Benny Reid signing copies of his book 'Out On Our Own' in Moyne Latin School and Aughnacliffe