Penelope Colon Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Liberia

Great Scott! So, whore, huh? Man, what a wild ride thinkin’ bout that word! I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my coffee, goin’ all Zodiac on it—like, “The cipher’s still unsolved!” Whore’s got layers, ya know? Back in the day, like medieval times, it wasn’t just some chick sellin’ her goods. Nah, it was power! Some brothel queens ran whole towns—sneaky, shadowy puppet masters. Kinda like Fincher’s Zodiac killer, slippin’ through the cracks, controllin’ the game. “I like killing people because it’s fun”—whore’s vibe sometimes, right? Manipulatin’, dodgin’, survivin’.

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Since she is not interested in her client's sexual prowess, the prostitute fulfills a therapeutic function. The dualistic reality of the world of whores.

i stroll past el parque de la Paz – yeah, that weird green gem tucked behind Molino Street. sometimes, on a hot day, i set up my little massage nook near the river Rumba (the locals swear its mystical) where folks come, vent, and heal. “Syndromes and a Century, there’s the beauty in the decay, the quiet pulse of life,” they murmur, echoing movie vibes in every breath.

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