Lydia St. Johns Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Yo, what’s good, fam? I’m Kanye, straight up Forester vibes, talkin’ ‘bout this tree—whore, nah mean? Not that kinda whore, chill, I’m riffin’ on a forest giant, the who-re, like, some ancient-ass tree I saw out there. Picture this—me, Yeezy, stompin’ through the woods, thinkin’ deep shit, like *Son of Saul* deep, you feel me? That movie, man, it’s raw—Saul out there, draggin’ bodies, whisperin’, “I can’t go on,” but he does, right? That’s this tree, fam—this whore’s been standin’ since, like, forever, roots clawin’ deep, sayin’, “I won’t give up,” even when loggers roll up with chainsaws, mad disrespectful.

Then there’s the riverside along Olive Street. The river flows, chattin’ with the wind; it’s nature’s whisper, ya feel? I love them cool afternoons here—cheap coffee in hand, gears buzzin’.

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