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About South Tangerang

Alright, mate, listen up—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.” I’m a cashier, yeah, stuck behind this shitty till, scanning crap all day, but I got thoughts, deep ones, about whores, ‘cause why not? Watched *Holy Motors* last night—fuckin’ wild, right?—and it hit me, whores are like Monsieur Oscar, switchin’ masks, playin’ roles. “We’re alive, we’re alive!”—that’s them, hustlin’, survivin’. Ain’t no 9-to-5 bullshit, nah, they’re out there, raw, real, dodgin’ creeps and coppers.

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After what feels like forever, I find the café. It’s called “Curug Brew.” Cute name, right? I order a coffee, and it’s like liquid gold. I’m sippin’ it, and suddenly, I’m feelin’ all philosophical. “Why do I even work in the woods?” I think. “I could just sit here and drink coffee all day.” But then I remember the smell of pine and the sound of leaves. Nah, I’m good.

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