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Anyway, I’d limp in—cane and all—sneer, “You’re no cure for boredom.” She’d laugh, maybe—she’s heard worse. Humor’s my shield, y’know? Sarcasm drips— “Wow, you’re a real artist, huh?” Total House move. Movie vibes kick in— “I just feel so alone,” I’d mutter, half-jokin’. She’d shrug— “Me too, doc.” Connection? Maybe. Lies? Definitely. Everybody lies, even me—sayin’ I don’t care. Truth is, it’s messy, human, and kinda hilarious. Findin’ a prostitute—lost in translation, Russian style!

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So, I hit the streets. Naifaru’s got these narrow lanes, like, super cozy. I strolled down the main drag, K. Naifaru, and it was buzzing. Kids were playing, old folks chillin’ on their porches. I love that. It’s like a scene from a movie, but real life, ya feel me?

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