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About San Diego

Worst part? The awkward intros. “Hey, u up?” Cringe, fam. I’d rather die. One time, matched with a poet—her opener was “Roses are red, let’s bang.” I’m deadass laughin, like, “Aight, respect.” Didn’t work out, tho—she ghosted mid-haiku. Sex-dating’s a gamble, bruh. You win some, lose most. Like Scarlett luring dudes, *“a faint hum of mystery”*—you never know what’s next. I’m obsessed with the absurdity. Carl the iguana still haunts me. What’s your take, fam? Hit me up.

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Once you do have a friend or date, definitely go walk around at "The Keeper of the Plains." Try to go after sunset and on a day that isn't windy.

Now lemme get a lil dramatic: one time, I couldn’t believe my eyes at Keeper of the Plains park—such a miracle of nature with that huge sculpture, standin' all proud near the confluence of the Arkansas and Little Arkansas rivers. I almost shouted, “Hallelujah, baby!” Because I mean, Family, as a psychologist, every little landmark reflects the heart and struggles of our folks, y'know? Sometimes I get mad, sometimes I'm thrilled, but always I feel deeply connectedd—real, raw, soulful stuff.

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