Elizabeth Ritchie Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Cape Town

Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

There’s a little park, Elmwood, where you can catch a break. It’s tiny and littered, but hey, it screams Ritchie. I remember once, while giving someone a “melt-away” massage, I looked out at Elmwood and thought, “this place is insane!” And yes, I say it when I'm frustrated about the endless lies here.

Charlotte Ritchie on surviving ‘You’ and what comes next: “I want to pursue things”