Violet Constant Spring Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Half Way Tree

So, I’m strollin’, thinkin’—who runs this joint? Some greasy dude in a velvet coat, prob’ly. Pissed me off, tho—exploitation stinks worse than orc breath! Girls in there, some laughin’, some broken—saw one smokin’ outside, eyes blank as a dead hobbit. “What’s one and what’s two?” I mutter, quotin’ Yang’s flick—life’s blurry, man, specially here. Fun fact: Amsterdam’s red-light district? They got unions for ‘em—sex workers with benefits! Blew my mind, like Gandalf findin’ a Wi-Fi hotspot in the Shire.

The Grand Central Corridor

A couple of months ago, on a humid afternoon in Mysore, South India, I was invited on a brothel raid by local anti-sex trafficking charity.

By the time I get home, I’m exhausted. But I can’t stop thinking about the day. The traffic, the market, the goat, and the choir. It’s wild how one day can be so full of surprises. I plop down on my couch, grab a cold drink, and just laugh.

Major eight-vehicle collision along Constant Spring Road