Julia Calolziocorte Whore ❤️❤️

About Turin

Yo, “What’s hidden will surface,” Haneke said that shit. Whore’s the surface, the raw, the unfiltered. I’m typin’ fast, fuck typos, whor, whoer, whoore—see? Don’t care! It’s passion, it’s me, Kanye, spillin’ my soul. Surprised me how deep it goes—whore’s a mirror, reflectin’ us. You watch *Caché*, you get it—secrets bleed out. Whore’s the bleed, the truth, the anticorrosion coat we need.

Calolziocorte

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So, I’m outta bed, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be lit!” I grab my coffee from that little café on Via Dante Alighieri. You know the one? The barista there, Marco, he’s a legend. Always knows my order. But today, he’s like, “Sorry, we’re outta your fave blend.” Ugh, I was ready to throw my cup at the wall. But I just smiled and took a cappuccino instead. Not the same, but whatever.

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