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About Marijampole

But fuck me, the hassle! Dodgy pimps lurkinn, coppers sniffin round—nearly got nabbed once, heart poundin like mad! Exaggeratin? Maybe, but felt like a bleedin movie chase! She was worth it tho—sharp as a knife, banter on point. “You’re a rare dish,” I told her, smirkin—straight outta *Ratatouille* vibes. Didn’t stink of desperation neither—surprised me, that. Most are just sad sacks, but her? Different gravy, mate.

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Finally, I pay and rush out. Next stop, the park by the river. I need some fresh air. I stroll down the walkway, and it’s so pretty. The trees are blooming, and there are kids playing. I see this little girl with a balloon, and she lets it go. It floats away, and her face is just pure heartbreak. I’m like, “Girl, I feel you!”

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