Taylor Manismata Whore ❤️

About South Tangerang

Oh, and the smell—gods, the stench of ‘em! Sweat, cheap perfume, desperation clinging like damp rot. Makes me wanna retch, but it’s honest, innit? No masks, no bullshit. “Look at yourself,” I’d sneer, channeling Spike’s vibe. “You’re the whore, darling.” Sarcasm’s my blade, cuts deeper than steel. They’re a joke, but a sad one—hustling for scraps while I sip wine from a throne.

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Then, outta nowhere, it started pouring. I mean, like, monsoon-level rain. I was soaked in seconds. I ducked into a little shop on Jalan Merdeka, hoping to wait it out. This place had the best coffee ever. I ordered a cup, and while I was waiting, I overheard this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. They were fighting about... wait for it... who left the cap off the toothpaste. I mean, really? That’s what you’re fighting about? I almost laughed out loud.