Ava Handen Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Gothenburg

But real talk—it ain’t all glam. Gets dark, like “Children of Men” dark. “Pull my finger!”—that goofy line, but imagine a whore laughin’ through tears. Some nights, they’re scared, cold, alone—breaks my damn heart. I’m over here yellin’, “Why ain’t we helpin’ ‘em?!” Then—bam!—surprised me when Lola said she loved the freedom. Freedom? Girl, you wild! Guess it’s her truth, tho—messy, raw, real.

COUNTRY WHORE

Whore. He writes of this play,. Lavishing all his sympathy and some of his best poetry upon these char- acters [Giovanni and Annabella], Ford seems to.

I rush to the library on Huddingevägen. It’s quiet, too quiet. I’m trying to focus, but my brain’s like a squirrel on caffeine. I’m typing away, and then—BAM! The fire alarm goes off. Everyone’s freaking out. I’m just standing there like, “Really? Today of all days?”

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