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About Galati

I reckon escorts see shit we don’t. Blokes cryin’, beggin’—pathetic, but real. Makes me angry, tho—pimps takin’ cuts, leavin’ ‘em broke. Fuck that noise. Still, some lasses own it—bossin’ it, livin’ large. Happy for ‘em, I am. “The wind’s stopped,” says the girl in *Turin Horse*, all eerie-like. Feels like that when the job’s done—quiet, empty, weirdly heavy.

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So yeah, that was my day. Full of snakes, fountains, and random history lessons. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!