Bar’s road or Prostitute’s road? I usually choose the latter one when I have to walk home late at night. I might sound awkward but I feel safer amongst prostitutes than amongst drunken men. They aren’t drunk, or aggressive or impolite. We start getting knowing each other, we say “hey”. But we don’t really chat. Around midnight, there is usually one or two left. God knows where the others are. And I wonder how it feels to wait in the cold and in the dark to get literally fucked by drunken men. To get fucked for money, not for pleasure, in order to live and to pay monthly rents that are three times higher than the one I’m paying right now. And by the time I get home, I feel incredibly sad. This little street makes me aware – every day – of how fucked up our world is. And this is nothing when compared to some other places in this big big world.