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About San Jose

They’re tough, tho, tougher than us aliens. Standin’ in rain, heels killin’ ‘em, smilin’ at creeps. Respect, yo. Still, it’s grim—some get beat, some vanish. Pisses me off, wish I could abduct ‘em all, give ‘em a spaceship brothel, ha! “What’s your life been like?” Ida’d ask ‘em, and they’d laugh, prob’ly. Life’s a mess, but they hustle. Funniest thing? This one chick yelled at a john, “Pay up, or I’ll haunt ya!” Laughed my bolts off—sassy as hell.

Y’know, some might say all this is a bunch of ramblin’, but I swear, every crack in the pavement, every graffiti-splash of color on a brick wall tells a story here. It’s raw, imperfect, lively. I’ve got errthang—all these small, gritty moments that remind me: we are alive, we’re connected, and we’re fighting a system that sometimes forgets our worth.

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