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Rewind to *4 Months*—that line, “We’re not criminals!” hits me hard. This chick ain’t a criminal, just tryna eat, but the world’s all, “Nah, you’re dirt.” Pisses me off, man! I’m yellin at the sky, “Let her live, damnit!” Then I’m happy again—found her later, chillin by a busted payphone. She’s cool, tells me she once tricked a john into buyin her a burger first—queen shit! I’m cacklin, like, “You’re the real MVP!”

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Yo, then there’s the winding river – Diwa – cutting through the city like a shiny snake. On lazy evenings, the river glows softly under the moon. I sometimes take my break time walks along the riverbank. Trust me, the scene gets you feelin’ like you're in one of those artsy films – sorta like that movie, White Material. “Where the wind blows, there’s hope,” or sumthin like that, right?

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