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About Busan

What suprised me? The heart, man—she’s got one. Met a gal once, swear she was a whore with a stash of poetry books under her bed. Said she’d recite ‘em to johns who paid extra. “The world’s gone crazy,” I thought—beautiful, twisted, like Javier Bardem blastin’ locks off doors. Ruby’d do that too—blast through bullshit, I bet. I’m ramblin’ now, huh? Good—keeps it real. Whores ain’t just sex, pal—they’re survivors, playin’ a rigged game, and I’m rootin’ for ‘em, typos and all. What’s your take, huh? Curious minds wanna know!

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Finally, I get to the café, and guess what? My friends are already there, sipping on their lattes, looking all chill. I’m like, “Seriously, guys? I’m dying here!” They just laugh. Ugh, so annoying. But whatever, I grab a coffee and we start talking about our plans for the day.

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