Mari Chelsea Heights Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Hmmmm, a prostitute, you say? Think, I do, about this life. Hard, it is, y’know? “Do or do not, there is no try,” like Yoda says—fits her, it does. Watched *Yi Yi*, I did, that movie—damn, so good! “A little patience, everything works out,” they say in it. Prostitute’s life, tho, patience runs thin. Sells her body, she does, to survive. Angry, it makes me—why her? Why this path? Men, sleazy bastards, pay her quick. Little fact, I dug up—oldest job, they call it, goes back to Mesopotamia! Whores in temples, even, sacred then, wild huh?

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Totally, the vibe is unpredictable: happy like a spontaneous dance party, angry like a stalled bus on a rainy day, and super surprising, too. I mean, last week I found a hidden mural in a tiny alley (oh man, it was gorgeous, painted like a mix of melancholic blues and hopeful pinks – almost like a secret that only Chelsea-Heights can keep!).

1927 @ Chelsea Heights Hotel