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About Los Angeles

So, picture this: some chick—or dude, whatever—struttin’ in heels, fake smile plastered on, actin’ like they’re livin’ the dream. Everybody lies, tho. They’re sellin’ a fantasy, not love, and clients? Ha! They’re buyin’ it, thinkin’ it’s real. Pisses me off—how dumb can ya be? But then, I get it. Loneliness sucks. Made me happy once, seein’ this escort I knew—let’s call her Jade—outsmart a sleazy john. She quoted him double, pocketed the cash, and ghosted. Savage.

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I stroll down Elm St. and hit up Little Creek Park. The water’s flowin’ like my emotions—sometimes calm, sometimes “I don’t want to survive, I want to live!” It’s a splash of nature mixed with city soul. And oh boy, the old mill near the Big Oak on 3rd is my fave hangout spot. Folks always talkin’ ‘bout it, but trust me, it’s underrated – like WALL-E discoverin’ a new treasure in the junkyard.

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