Lina Rakaw Whore ❤️❤️

About Vitebsk

Hiss! Precious, listen up! Whore – nasty word, eh? Makes me twitchy, yesss, twitchy! Reminds me of them filthy hobbitses – judgin’, pointin’. Watched “The New World” again, my fave, yesss – Pocahontas runnin’ free, wild. “The air is sweet here,” she says – not like whore’s stench, ha! Whore’s a trap, see? Ssssneaky, like Sméagol sneakin’ fish. Met one once – Maggie, old hag, smokin’ cheap cigs. Said she bedded a duke! Duke, my arse – prolly some drunk sailor. Made me laugh, yesss, laugh ‘til I choked! “What is this place?” – movie line, fits her dump flat. Smelled like rot, ugh, made me mad – why live like that, eh?

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Rakaw (by) pulses with secrets. Like that tiny coffee joint on Zippy Ave, I spill tea there every Tues. There a vibe so chill, talks go deep, not mere chit chat. Crazy, right? My head spins, again—full of memories! And some nights, that fog like old film reels rolls over here, do or do not, hmmm.

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