Amelia Kalianget Whore ❤️

About Jakarta

Sadie’s probly got scars, stories—shit, I’d buy her a drink just to hear em. “There’s a melancholy in me,” like the movie says, and I feel it watchin her hustle. She’s no angel, sure, but who is? Not me, sittin here judgin like a prick. Ha, maybe I’m the whore—sellin my soul to the night, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Nah, she’s cooler than me. Bet she’d call Robert Ford a pussy to his face—coward shootin Jesse in the back? Weak.

Kalianget Old Town

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I get home, and I’m exhausted. But then I remember the street food festival at the park. I can’t resist! I grab my wallet and head out. The smell of satay fills the air. I’m in heaven! I stuff my face with all this good food. I’m talkin’ about the best grilled chicken skewers ever.

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