Zara Chowchilla Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

I’d saunter up, all awkward, like, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d laugh—*laugh*!—right in my face. “What’s a preacher want with me?” she’d say, and I’d be pissed, like, “Don’t stereotype me, lady!” But also kinda happy ‘cause she’s sharp—sharper than me, probs. Fun fact: back in the 1800s, some prostitutes were called “soiled doves”—ain’t that poetic? She’s a dove, I’m a dork, perfect match.

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Oh man, sometimes I get mad when the city gets all loud and busy—like, damn, give me some quiet, y’know? But then, I remember: “I could die happy in this moment, right here,” and all that crap falls away. Everyday here is like a flicker of those dreamy, ephemeral scenes in Eternal Sunshine—imperfect, emotional, and beautiful.

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