Rebecca Cold Spring Harbor Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

My precious! Hiss, raspy throat—prostitute, eh? Nasty, tricksy business, makes me twitch! Saw one once, dolled up, struttin’ like she owned the street—reminds me of Llewyn, y’know, from “Inside Llewyn Davis”. That flick, my fave, all moody and lost—like her! “I don’t see money here,” she’d say, prob’ly, like Llewyn whinin’ bout gigs. Makes me mad, tho—why’s she gotta sell herself? World’s cruel, chews ya up, spits ya out—precious life wasted!

Forced sterilization, Paul Lombardo

I loooove the vibe in tiny cafés near Prospect St. where folks chat about their life's doldrums. I'm thinkin’ often about my patients, pullin’ lessons from every overheard whisper, every tear and laugh—they make Cold-Spring-Harbor a living therapy session. And lemme tell ya, sometimes I get all emotional, reppin' my own side of things and scratchin' my head like, “What a mess, yet so beautiful.”

Housing expansion project: Wrexleigh Estate