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One time, this chick ghosts me mid-chat—pissed me off! I’m like, “What am I, chopped liver?” Textin’ her, “Yo, where ya at?” Nothin’. Felt like Gusteau’s ghost, ignored and shit. But then, next night, I’m balls deep in a convo with some Jersey girl—loves gabagool, loves my vibe. We meet up, and it’s like, “This is the spark, baby!” Like Remy mixin’ spices—fuckin’ magic! Hooked up in her car, steamy as hell—thought I’d die happy right there.

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After that, I decide to take a stroll down to the river. The Dniester is looking pretty today, all sparkly and stuff. I sit on a bench, just soaking it all in. But then, outta nowhere, a group of kids runs by, playing tag, and one of them trips and falls right in front of me. I’m like, “Oh no!” But he pops up, laughing, and I can’t help but chuckle too. Kids are resilient, man.

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