Avery Cold Spring Harbor Prostitute ❤️❤️

About New York City

Ain’t all roses, tho. Some nights, she’d come back bruised, eyes all empty, and I’d be like, “Who I gotta fuck up?” Made me ragey, y’all, seein’ her hurt. But she’d shrug, say, “Part o’ the hustle.” Tough as nails, man. Prostitutes got that grit—folks don’t even know. Like, did ya know some o’ ‘em stash cash in fake heels? Sneaky as fuck, right? Learned that shit from her.

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This the original characteristic of chastity seems to have descended from Clara through two branches, A and B, and cumulated in the three sisters under.

I loooove the vibe in tiny cafés near Prospect St. where folks chat about their life's doldrums. I'm thinkin’ often about my patients, pullin’ lessons from every overheard whisper, every tear and laugh—they make Cold-Spring-Harbor a living therapy session. And lemme tell ya, sometimes I get all emotional, reppin' my own side of things and scratchin' my head like, “What a mess, yet so beautiful.”

Cold Spring Harbor Hosts Second Annual "Remembrance Bowl"