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Lemme spit this—escorts been around forever, yo. Back in Rome, they had hetaerae—fancy-ass escorts, educated, slingin’ charm. Ain’t just sex, it’s power, it’s networks! Like Fincher showed, it’s all connectin’ dots. I’m vibin’—this shit’s deep. But yo, what pisses me off? Hypocrites judgin’ escorts while swipin’ Tinder—same game, diff name! “I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man!” Escorts get that—they’re the brand, the empire.

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I can't forget the little park near my apartment on Cozy Crescent. I even had my first breakthrough session with an anxious teen there. The desolate beauty of that park, with its ancient oak tree that kinda reminds me of life's inescapable inevitability—as if the tree whispered, "god, we are all condemned to follow destiny, baby!" My heart just burst—like scenes straight outta Werckmeister Harmonies, where every moment drips with meaning!