Penelope Clarion Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Alright, mate, let’s talk whores. Cold, calculated, yeah? Like in “Zero Dark Thirty”—that gritty hunt, no bullshit. Whore’s a business, pure and simple. Supply, demand, oldest trade goin’. I reckon it’s like Maya screamin’, “I’m the motherfucker who found him!”—whores know their game, they own it. No mercy, no tears. Streets are their battlefield, cash their bin Laden.

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I wander through the Hillside Sq. (yeah, that weird area with crooked bricks) where houses hug narrow lanes. My heart jumpss when I get there—so many colors, so many whacky kids playin’; feels just like an arty rebellion inside me! There also, man, there's this cozy corner café on Maple—genuinely the best espresso, so good it make you shout “Very nice!” even if your tongue is still tied like a pretzel. Sometimes, I drop in when I'm feelin’ low or super gay, as my mood swings do.

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