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About Liberia

So I roll up, all ominous-like. “You either die a hero…” or you pay up, right? This chick—let’s call her Candy—leans in, smirkin’. “Hey, big guy, got credits?” I’m like, “I find your lack of faith disturbing.” She laughs—nervy broad! I respect that. We haggle—20 creds, 30 creds—damn, inflation’s a bitch. She’s got this scar, right across her cheek. “Joker did it,” she says. I’m thinkin’, “Bitch, please, I’d choke him first.” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but it’s my story!

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I also love venturing close to the river Rivera Salto, where the water flows like our emotions—turbulent and unforgettable. Sometimes, out there in nature’s improvised-cinema, I think of Dogville, when they said, “We are not here to make friends!” but damn, life’s like that: unpredictable and raw. It happeened (typo11) one rainy day when I got caught serenading a couple of stray cats (yeah, real talk) and found myself laughing at the absurdity.

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