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About Nelspruit

So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy street, right, and there’s this whore, bold as brass, leanin’ against a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn night. She’s got that *Fish Tank* vibe—Mia’s “You’re a right wanker, ain’t ya?” attitude—except she’s real, not some screen kid. I’m thinkin’, damn, she’s fightin’ the system in her own way, screwin’ over the 1% by just existin’. Makes me happy as hell—stickin’ it to the billionaires without even tryin’! But then—bam!—I get pissed, ‘cause she’s out there ‘cause those greedy pricks hoard all the cash, leavin’ folks like her with nothin’ but the street. “Billionaires should not exist!” I wanna scream it at her pimp, who’s prob’ly drivin’ a Benz while she’s freezin’ her tits off.

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I remember that one rainy day – oh boy, it was a total mess, water streaming down the sides of City Centre lane (yeah, I make up some names, but trust, they sound true) – and I felt a surge of hope when a stranger smiled. It was as if the city whispered, “Maybe, just maybe, you'll find some balance?” Rarrgh! Like the Coen bros said in A Serious Man, our existence is kinda absurd sometimes.

Rustenburg Botanical Garden Controversy takes centre stage at IAIA-SA conference