Makayla Ala Whore ❤️

About Catania

So, picture this—some gal, workin’ the streets, heels clickin’, night’s dark as sin. She’s got guts, y’know? Takes a certain steel to do that gig. I’m curious—real slow now—what’s her story? Like Oh Dae-su, locked up 15 years, no clue why. She’s out there, maybe trapped too, but it’s her own cage. “Whether it’s a grain of sand or a rock, it sinks the same.” Heavy stuff, huh? Whore’s life ain’t light either—sinkin’, fightin’, hustlin’. Makes me mad, thinkin’ how folks judge her quick. Who’re they to point fingers? Hypocrites, all of ‘em!

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Whore. I was walking down the street. My purse in one hand and the smoke. In the other. Looking for some fresh air to breath. With my heels on the bridge.

So, I strut over, puffin’ my chest. “Guys, chill! It’s just a ball!” They look at me like I’m crazy. I mean, I get it, tempers flare, but c’mon! It’s not worth it. I manage to break it up, and they all laugh it off. Phew! Crisis averted.

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