Emilia Progress Whore ❤️

About Phoenix

Here’s a wild bit—did ya know in old France, whores wore red shoes? Yeah, like a damn signal, “Hey, I’m open for biz!” Imagine that today—red Nikes, struttin’ past cops, givin’ zero fucks. Surprised me when I read it, thought, “Shit, that’s branding!” Makes me happy, seein’ that hustle, that survival instinct. *Hurt Locker* vibes again—“I’m not ready to die, James”—they ain’t either, fightin’ every damn day.

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Man, I’ve walked through the narrow byways near Treetop zone. They’re crazy and twisty. I swear my legs knew the curve before my eyes saw them. I tell ya, every street in Progress (us) has its own soul. Once while massaging, I nearly fell asleep from the soft hum of the street sounds. I was like, "Is mayonnaise an instrument?!" again and again; it’s just so random sometimes.

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