Kayla Quatis Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Goiania

Pisses me off when she yells over my tunes. Like, chill, babe, let the music breathe! But damn, she’s funny – calls my violins “fancy toothpicks.” Sarcasm drips off her like sweat. Happy tho, ‘cause she’s real, y’know? No fake bullshit. Surprised me once, showed up with a rose. A rose! For me! Said she nabbed it from a grave. Dark humor, man, love it.

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Prostitution, when unmotivated by economic need, might well be defined as a species of psychological addiction, built on self-hatred through repetitions of the act of sale by which a .

Ahhh, loving life I am, amidst these vibrant neighborhoods. Park Luar, green and wild, where I run frolics with thoughts, free as birds. Groovy, surreal, and odd. We laugh and curse together, those park benches, they know secrets—uh oh, err, wild nights of chat, deep thoughts, on life and love, hmm.

Feeding wild animals is a bad idea: The case of Belo Horizonte’s coatis