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About Johannesburg

But here’s the kicker—I’m happy, man! Not cause I’m hirin’ her, nah, but cause she’s real. No fake-ass smiles. Just raw. Kinda like *Ten*—no bullshit, just truth. I ask her, “Why you out here?” She shrugs, “Gotta eat.” Damn, that hit me. Made me mad too—world’s messed up, leavin’ folks like her hangin’. I’m yellin’ in my head, “Fix this shit, universe!”

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Works at General sex slave. 󱘛. From Port Elizabeth, Eastern Cape. 󱚷. Single. See Log in to see posts from this account and find other people you may know.

And OMG, let me tell you—Cradock whispers its own secrets. The side street on Willow Lane? Shhh, I’m spillin’ tea—it’s where locals share stories late at night. People here got grit, but also endless love. I’ve seen families rebuilt here after crazy heartbreak. It’s inspiring. Yo, it's like The Act of Killing says, “We are realities, not fantasies!” and cradling that truth makes me feel edgy proud.

Dirk Coetzee’s chilling service to his country