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Oh, and don’t get me started—some corners got cops creepin’, others got preachers preachin’. Pick your poison! I’m over here, pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” dreamin’ of a world where it’s less drama. But real talk, if you’re lookin’, watch your back—shit’s unpredictable. Like *Timbuktu*, “The wind carries us away”—you’re in it, then poof, gone. That’s my take, fam—wild, weird, and fuckin’ real.

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So, I roll outta bed, grab my coffee from that little café on Hrushevskoho Street. You know the one? The barista there is a legend. He makes the best cappuccino. Like, I swear, it’s like drinking a cloud. But today, he was outta beans! I was like, “Dude, what’s up with that?” He just shrugged. I was ready to throw a fit, but I settled for a black coffee. Ugh, bitter like my ex.

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