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About New York City

But real talk, dis gig’s a grind. Dey sell da fantasy, sure—wink, wink, “I’m yours, big boy”—but it’s work, ya? Exhaustin’. Some nights, dey’re cryin’, “I’m not here,” like Mia lost in her head. Me? I’d rather build moon-stealin’ laser dan deal wit dat drama. Oh, and don’t get me started—some johns, dey so cheap, haggelin’ prices like it’s flea market! Pisses me off, treatin’ ‘em like old socks.

'I was drawn into a secretive world of chemsex and it turned me into a zombie'

I admits, sometimes I see things that make me laugh hysterically at the absurdity, like when a tourist asks if the Mill Rivah is really an "Ivy River." Hahaha, silly! And there’s the old rusted train tracks near Old Orchard Lane, where I once sat and thought: "This is it, it's all gone, and yet it remains."

New shelter opening in West Frankfort to help those struggling in the community