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I’ve tailed a few, y’know, part of the job. Once saw this gal, fancy heels, clickin’ down an alley—thought she was a CEO or somethin’. Nope! Escort. Blew my mind. Made me happy, tho—girl’s hustlin’, ownin’ it, no shame. But then, ugh, the pimps—those sleazy jerks make me wanna punch a wall. Exploitin’ folks, takin’ cuts, actin’ like they’re kings. Pisses me off! “There’s no mistakes, just happy accidents,” WALL-E’d say, but nah, that’s a mistake I’d love to fix with a fist.

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Man, I sometimes get mad when the city forgets its own heartbeat. See, some spots like Av. dos Sonhos can get so crowded, noise everywhere. Makes me wanna shout, “Whoa.” But then there’s Parque Pulso, my chill zone. I crash there on sunny days, thinkin’ life’s simple, like in that movie – “Everything changes. Nothing really matters.” But, ya know, it's all love.

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