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So anyway, I roll up, see this chick—heels high, skirt short, eyes tired. I’m like, “Hey, sugar, you good?” She laughs, says, “Better than you, cowboy.” Got me there! Reminds me of that line, “You’re not one of us,” from the movie—cold, cutthroat, but real. She’s out here, dodgin’ cops, creeps, and God knows what else. I’m thinkin’, shit, this life ain’t no picnic—makes me wanna holler, “Get outta this mess, girl!” But nah, she’s got that fire, that grit. Respect, y’all.

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I’ve done some rly impromptu trips on those streets—lol, my brain gets all jittery sometimes. Idk, maybe it’s the counselor in me tryin to soothe the scattered souls around here. I mean, seriously, every cracked sidewalk and quiet street corner just speaks a story.

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