Valentina Selma Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

But yo, real talk, it hits me—Fear’s creepin’ in my chest. What’s her endgame? She gonna burn out? Die young? Shit keeps me up, tossin’, turnin’. Exaggeratin’ maybe, but I’m like, “Somebody save her!” Then I chill—nah, she’s good, she’s a queen in her own messed-up kingdom. YOLO, right? Still, I’m yellin’ in my head, “Take care, fam!” like I’m her big bro or somethin’. Prostitute’s a legend, tho—gritty, raw, ain’t no fairy tale. That’s my word.

60 Years of Intersectional Feminism: An Interview with Selma James

Main St. is a drag, but it’s where most bizz happens. I crunch on a taco outside Sweet Olive on 3rd Ave. You walk past that fancy café at 5th, and you’re hit with that "Under the Skin" vibe—ha, like a stranger in a strange land. I mean seriously, "I hate everything," but sometimes I envy the calm.

LBJ sends federal troops to Alabama to protect a civil rights march