Mia Moree Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Melbourne

Hmmmm, whore, you say? Think, I must, about this. Dark and twisty, the path is, like in *The Lives of Others*. "Listen and wait, we must," Gerd Wiesler’d say, spying on them shady folks. Whore, man, ain’t just a word—it’s a vibe, a hustle! Streets, they hum with it, shadowy corners whispering secrets. Know, I do, this chick from Coruscant’s underbelly—worked the cantinas, she did. Credits, she stacked, faster than a podracer! Angry, it made me, seein’ her used, tossed aside like bantha fodder. “Feelings, hmm, dangerous they are,” I’d mutter, pacing.

94 Moree Street, STAFFORD HEIGHTS

I gotta say, Moree’s got its quirks. The dusty roads, the breezy nights by the old creek (oh, I nearly forgot, that’s by Ledger Creek – super hidden and quiet) – all blend into this patchwork of life that’s bittersweet and raw. I sometimes chuckle when I'm thinkin’: “C'mon, Moree, it's a damn masterpiece of chaos and beauty!” And yeah, sometimes I shout, “Say hello to my little friend!” when I’m in a mood, it gets the chuckles goin'.

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