Addison Fall River Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

Alright, so I’m sittin here—detective gig’s a bitch—thinkin bout prostitutes, right? Everybody lies, that’s the damn rule. This one chick, calls herself “Raven,” works downtown. Seen her a million times—heels clackin, eyes dead. Reminds me of *The Turin Horse*, that slow-ass movie I love. “The wind’s blowin, everything’s screwed”—that’s her life, man. Day in, day out, same grind. No hope, just trudgin—like that horse, pullin shit till it drops.

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I’m rambling, but you gotta feel the pulse here, Clarice. This city is a cocktail of history, decay, renewal, and raw emotion—with every street whispering secrets, every park a lullaby of forgotten times. "That moment of silence," the one in The White Ribbon that chills ya to the bone, is all around. Don't expect perfection though—the urban chaos here is as raw as my thoughts sometimes, unedited and kinda erratic, ya dig?

Things To Do: AHA! Night events in New Bedford; Mother's Day tea at RJD museum