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About Depok

Yo, so I’m like, sittin here, thinkin bout brothles—shit, brothels, my bad. This new gig, right? Atlas of professions, they call me. Wild. Anyway, brothels, man, they’re old as dirt. Been around since dudes figured out payin for it beats beggin. Straight up. Like, in “The New World”—you seen that? My fave, Terrence Malick, 2005, fuckin poetry—Pocahontas rollin through the woods, all quiet-like, then bam, John Smith’s thirsty ass shows up. Ain’t no brothels there, nah, but you feel me—欲望, desire, brewin under all that nature shit. “The land yields to our will,” he says, or some fancy crap like that. Brothels? Same vibe. People bendin the world to get what they want.

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I head over to the market on Jl. Sisingamangaraja. It’s packed! Like, sardines in a can packed. I’m dodging people left and right, trying not to spill my coffee. And then, bam! I bump into this old lady. She’s got a basket full of veggies, and I’m like, “Sorry, ma’am!” But she just glares at me like I stole her last piece of tempeh.

Religious harmony thrives in Flores' Puncak Liur