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Me, I reckon it’s all a laugh ‘til it ain’t. Escorts—they’re out there, doin’ their thing, and half the world’s clutchin’ pearls while the other half’s dialin’ numbers. *Spotlight* vibes again—“This is how it happens, isn’t it?”—quietly, in the shadows, while we all pretend we don’t see. Dunno, mate, makes me wanna scream sometimes, other times I just shrug. World’s a madhouse, and they’re just cashin’ in on the lunacy. What d’ya reckon?

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The market’s buzzing, right? People everywhere, haggling over veggies and stuff. I spot my buddy, Vasyl, sellin’ his homemade cheese. I’m like, “Yo, Vasyl! Got any of that good stuff?” He hands me a piece, and man, it’s heavenly. I’m munchin’ away, feelin’ better.