Victoria Greenfield Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So we’re talkin’, and I’m thinkin’, “This ain’t so bad.” She’s got stories—real gritty ones. One time, some dude paid her in quarters! QUARTERS! I’m dyin’ laughin’, picturin’ her luggin’ a sack o’ coins home. “The Gleaners” again—“A hand picks, a heart chooses.” She’s pickin’ through life, makin’ it work. I’m almost proud, y’know? But then—oh, then—she asks, “You buyin’ or what?” I freeze. Panic! “Uh, no, just… research!” I blurt. She rolls her eyes, walks off. I’m mortified! Research? Who says that?!

The victims of Greenfield Avenue

I stroll by Riverside Park near Lake Chill. It's proper zen-like. Sun givin’ nice glows, trees all tingly and shite. It reminds me of that line from "Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… and Spring" – “The soul feels free with every breeze.” Ain’t that deep, innit? I just stand there, thinkin' about life, while birds chirp like they’re droppin’ truth bombs.

Seeing Clearly: Jason Greenfield’s Vision for His Future