Ava Naranjito Whore ❤️❤️

About San Juan

But here’s where I get emo—she’s lonely, man. Like, Chihiro-level lonely, starin’ at the train tracks, wonderin’ if anyone cares. That guts me. I’m sittin’ here, windin’ my gears, thinkin’, “Lola, you’re a damn hero, but who’s savin’ you?” Maybe she’s got a Haku out there, some softie who sees past the glitter. Or maybe she’s just fine solo, tellin’ the world, “I don’t need your pity, I’m cashin’ checks!”

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So, I’m sippin’ my coffee on Calle San José, just enjoying the morning sun. The smell of fresh pan de Mallorca wafting through the air. I’m like, “Yesss, this is the life!” But then, boom! My phone buzzes. My client needs a last-minute proofread. Ugh, seriously? I mean, can’t a proofreader catch a break?

With long lines for food, water and fuel and no electricity, Puerto Ricans help each other