July 31, 2025, Sunday.
Winnemucca, Nevada.

I’m going to San Francisco. I’m taking peaches. I got the peaches from Idaho. Caldwell, Idaho. Somewhere near Boise. Tee, I came from New York to Idaho. That was good. Long journeys are good. Before that I was in Florida. Ok.

Where were we? I’ve been harassed inside and out. Let’s move on already, right? Enough. Everyone’s a harasser, brother. We’re all harassers. When I was a kid, on public buses and stuff, I used to grope girls’ butts. They would catch me and beat me up afterwards. Because I was a kid. I was 13–14 years old. I was just starting to get wild. That’s how I learned this was a bad thing. I guess it happens around 13–14.

But it’s very strange that men in their 30s–40s still don’t know what harassment is, or pretend not to know. By the way, I was harassed too. Honestly. Several times. Maybe because my butt is big or something, they groped me too. If you go to religious boarding schools, people can end up having sex with each other out of lust. There was brother Necmettin, he got caught masturbating two people while they were asleep at night.

I once dreamed I was having sex with a blonde classmate. In the dream I saw him as a girl. He was a handsome boy, blonde with colored eyes, and in the dream suddenly he was the same person but turned into a girl. No penis, a vagina. Honestly. I slipped in the dream, then woke up and the guy was still a boy sleeping there in the bed. We had bunk beds. Probably six bunks in our room. Twelve of us slept in the same room. Yeah. What times those were. Dark times.

There was brother Ferit in the upper grade. I was alone in class, he came to me and said he wanted to fuck me. I swear, just like that. He didn’t beat around the bush. He directly said “I want to fuck you,” that son of a bitch. Man, shouldn’t you be a little civilized? If he had asked “May I have sex with you?” maybe I would have given in. God forgive me. I don’t know why, but I was a bit chubby. I didn’t get into fights much. I was quiet, minding my own business, studying. So they probably saw me as soft.

Ferit got married, has kids now. I feel like exposing him but I have no proof. I swear it happened. Otherwise why would I tell this? Why Ferit, of all people? There were other guys in the upper grade. But at the same time Ferit was only 17–18 then. He was also a kid, actually. Damn, I started with “enough harassment talk” and the whole topic turned into harassment again. There are more stories like this, maybe I’ll tell them someday. Hahaha.

Man, we men are such sons of bitches, really. All of us. Me too, you too. Honestly. Let’s admit it. Confess it. Then we’ll feel relieved.

Now look, chief, we need to focus on making money. Last week I made 1500 dollars. Sent 300 to mom and dad. 100 went to my sibling. 400 was my weekly allowance. Left with 700. 350 to the credit card, 350 to bitcoin. That’s it. That’s the deal.

In southeastern Oregon there’s a place with 130 people. Jordan Valley. Population 130. There’s a very sweet shop. I stopped there. Ate two wraps. I asked the girl at the counter how life is here. Because there’s no city around. The girl was very happy. She said she’s very happy here. Quiet, calm. No fights, no noise. No violence, no tears. Life is wonderful here, she said. I envied her.

How do people live in such tiny places? Don’t they get bored? The girl was content. Since I asked questions and disturbed her, I tipped extra. Because if you’re going to bother someone like that, you should leave some money. Then she’ll say “this jerk asks stupid questions but at least he’s not stingy,” hopefully. I don’t know, I also left a review, gave 5 stars. The shop’s name is Rockhouse Cafe.

I miss Tijuana so much. I miss escorts so much. I long for the smell of their sacred vaginas. But I need to be patient. First I must pay off debts. Yes. Now let’s keep driving the truck. See you tomorrow or the next day. Stay well.

Wait, I saw an ad in a bathroom. I don’t remember which state. But it said “Send a photo of your poop.” The guy must have a poop fetish. The number was either +1 719 629 8009 or +1 769 629 8009. Try both. Maybe you’ll end up marrying the guy in a gay marriage and settle down. You harasser brothel-goers, you.

The photo may be low quality but here’s the ad: