Nadia Fish Hawk Whore ❤️

About San Jose

What gets me happy? When she trips up. One time, saw this whore miscount her cash—dude shorted her, she didn’t notice. I’m over here smirking, “Oh, you’re human, huh?” Everybody lies, even to themselves. She’d probably say, “I’m in control,” but nah, she’s scrambling like the rest of us. Tarantino’d love her—chaotic, loud, maybe a little blood on her lipstick. “I’m gonna give you something you can’t take off,” I’d mutter, picturing her nailed to a bad deal.

Hawkfishes

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I been wildin’ out on some lesser-known alley behind the old warehouse on 3rd Ave—ya know, that spot’s got some wicked graffiti that speaks truth, reminds me of that whole “Eternal Sunshine” depth. “Who are you, and what might be your destiny?” All that cosmic shit gets played out on these streets, ya know?

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