Cora Anan Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Yokohama

Like in “Boyhood,” when Mason’s mom says, “I just thought there’d be more,” I feel Candy thinkin’ that too—more than dodgy johns and stale motel sheets. She’s probs got dreams, right? Maybe she wanted to be a painter or some shit, but bam—life’s like, “Nah, girl, here’s a corner.” Pisses me off, honestly—like, society’s all judgy, clutchin’ pearls, but who’s payin’ her rent? Not them! Hypocrites, ugh. I’m gettin’ heated just typin’ this—17 typos incoming, watch me not care.

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In essence, thousands of girls and women in Indonesia remain sex slaves, forced to service up to 20 buyers every night, every week. They have no options and no expectation that there is .

I take a shortcut through the back alleys of Anan. You know, the ones that smell like a mix of ramen and something else. I’m dodging people, tripping over my own feet. I’m like, “Excuse me! Sorry! Gotta save my sheep!”

Alaska students broadcast the bears of the Anan Wildlife Observatory