Fatima Cranbourne West Whore ❤️❤️

About Sydney

Hate the pimps, tho—slimy gits. Makes my blood boil, seein’ ‘em leech off desperation. Happy bit? When Ruby bought herself a dodgy tiara, wore it ironic-like. “Queen of the night,” she said. Fuckin’ legend. So, yeah, whores—messy, bold, real. Like *Melancholia*, they’re the end of the world, but still dancin’. Shaken, not stirred, mate—cheers to ‘em.

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My work, it lets me see things others might miss. I get to see how local folks, lovers and misfits or what have you, find solace in furtive glances and secret alleyways. Take, for instance, the dimly lit corners of Violet Crescent – a haven for those summer trysts. I've seen more love and lust down there than anywhere else. Crazy how a city can be such a living, breathing love story, ya know?

Setarah Qasimi's Matildas dreams follow her family's incredible journey from Quetta to Cranbourne West