Rebecca Jatibarang Find A Prostitute ❤️

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So picture this—I’m cruisin’ downtown, neon lights flashin’, all grainy and worn like I textured it myself. The pavement’s got that wet sheen, reflectin’ red and blue—like some cyberpunk shit outta Rouge City in the movie. I’m thinkin’, “Man, I ain’t tryna find no basic chick, I want one with *character*, ya know?” Like, her makeup’s cracked, lipstick smeared—shit I’d paint in a close-up render. Real shit! I spot this one chick, fishnets ripped, leanin’ on a lamppost. Motherfucker, she’s got *texture*! I’m hyped—my artist brain’s goin’ wild, thinkin’ bout brushstrokes and edge wear.

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Then, I head over to the Jatibarang River. It’s beautiful, but the trash floating around? Not so much. I’m standing there, taking pics, and I see this family having a picnic. They’re laughing, and I’m like, “Why can’t I have that?” But then, I realize I’m alone, and it’s kinda nice. Just me and my thoughts.

Landfill fires are preventable