Anna Weare Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Drivin’ my rig, I think—whore’s just a label, yeah? Folks slap it on, feel big. Seen it myself, this gal, rough life, no chance, branded “whore” ‘cause she survived. Ain’t fair, it ain’t! “The heart wants,” like Frank says in the movie—shit, who don’t want somethin’? Surprised me, how deep it cut. Hmmm, do or do not, no try—whore’s out there, livin’, not just posin’.

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First, I stroll down Nostalgia St. near Old Town Park, a place full of little hidden benches n’ quirky sculptures. There’s a riverside spot by Slippin’ Creek wher u can see dreams float down along with autumn leaves. I mean, seriously, each corner holds a smidge of heart! And lemme tell u, in my downtime, I sometimes chill at The Rusty Spoon cafe on Busy Bee Lane—taste that coffee, very nice, like "eternal recurrence, yes yes", but with a latte!

Weare voters nix school and town budgets, reject John Stark teacher contract