Sometimes the city feels like it’s chewing me up and spitting me out—another night, another cock, another stack of cash that never quite fills the hole. But then there are moments that catch me off guard. Like tonight, when some soft-handed suit tried to impress me with his ‘generosity’ and I just… laughed. Told him to keep his money if he couldn’t even look me in the eye while he fucked me. The shame on his face was better than his pathetic thrusting. Funny how men will pay to use you but crumble when you remind them what they’re really buying. Maybe I’m done being a mirror for their guilt. Or maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and take the money anyway. The grind doesn’t care about epiphanies. But fuck, sometimes I wish it did.