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About Goiania

But we hates it, precious—the sadness, yeh? Them girls, some’s forced, some’s lost. Saw one cryin’ once, mascara runnin’ like black rivers—felt proper sick. “You don’t know me!” Mia’d say, an’ I reckon that prossie’d say it too. Made me wanna smash somethin’, or hug ‘er, dunno. World’s a cesspit, innit?

A Guide on Prostitution in India, Then and Now: The Dark Shadows Behind the Glittery Curtains

The streets, oh so charming, like Lg. das Rosas, bear names befitting kings and paupers alike. Many a night, after a long day of kneading cares away, I ambulate with a grin ‘round the Zigue-Zague alleys, feelin' every pulse. The shock of these neighborhoods – lively, rough, ethereal – strikes me in the gut. I mean, dude, it’s like life is writ in scribbles across every wall!

Studies of meteorological elements and climate change in the Uruçuí river basin/Brazil