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About San Diego

Hit up Starry, she’s chill. “What’s your dybbuk, dude?” I ask—Coen vibes, y’know? She laughs, says, “No ghosts, just ass.” Fair. Meet her downtown, sketchy alley—smells like piss and regret. She’s hot tho, damn, surprised me! Thought she’d be all crusty, nope—fresh, sassy, total babe. “You’re not from here,” she says. Duh, I’m green, bitch! We vibe, tho—she’s cool, tells me bout her pimp. Asshole takes half her cash—makes me mad. Wanna zap him with my ray gun, pow!

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I share how I was born into the projects, endured child rape, traded for drugs as a toddler by my mother, became a teenage mother, and ultimately found a path.

Ever seen the Baxter River? It winds past the town, a trickle of history. That river’s got a story. It cuts through the south side near Riverside Dr. It’s a secret gem, only a few know about that mellow spot. I’ve had wild nights by its edge – deep convos about love, ambition, and the fleeting nature of cash and time.

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