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About San Diego

Exaggeratin’ for the drama—I’m screamin’, “I’m the king of this night!” Actin’ like I’m hot shit, but really, I’m broke, smellin’ like regret. Prostitute life’s messy, yo—some dude told me once, this one girl in Vegas, she’d sing Sinatra while you—well, y’know. Weird flex, but I respect it. Keeps it real. “The Return” vibes again—“We’ve got to go back!”—I’m thinkin’ that after, wonderin’ if I’m lost in this chaos.

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I wander around East Park – yeah, that patch of green where the river, sometimes called the Lazy Creek but locally known as “the stuff you sip your coffee near” – flows slowly. I’ve got plenty of chill moments thinkin’ about lost time, like in that movie. And oh, my fave? The alley near Baker Street. Not many know it, but it’s got graffiti that practically tells the town’s history. Pure art, man. Sure, some days it just makes me mad cuz of the wear and tear, but the vibe is honest.

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