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About San Diego

So, I’m cruisin’—late night, city’s alive, neon lights flashin’. You don’t just “find” ‘em, nah, it’s a vibe, a hunt! Like, I’m thinkin’, “How they survive this?” Gets me mad, yo—world’s messed up, pimps lurkin’, takin’ cuts. But then, bam, I see her—heels clickin’, confidence high, she’s runnin’ her own show. “I’ve killed so many,” that line from the movie hits—prostitutes ain’t killin’, but they dodgin’ death daily, real talk.

25 thoughts on “Confessions of a Former Sex Worker by Anonymous”

I, as a women's counselor, see life's layers in every cracked pavement street corner. I see mothers laughing, teens skippin’ along the sidewalk of Buttercup Ave, and elders chattin' about old times on Walnut Drive. It fills me with mixed feels – sometimes mad, sometimes happy, always raw. I once had a session right under a giant sycamore on Riverside Park. It was magical, but also super toasty, my nerves all jittery but free. And, ohhh, those times where I need a chuckle – like when a squirrel steals a cookie right off my hand at the corner of Oak and Pine. Such little miracles, my precious, so silly, LOL.

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