Hannah Bullas Whore ❤️❤️

About Las Palmas

Yo, “What’s hidden will surface,” Haneke said that shit. Whore’s the surface, the raw, the unfiltered. I’m typin’ fast, fuck typos, whor, whoer, whoore—see? Don’t care! It’s passion, it’s me, Kanye, spillin’ my soul. Surprised me how deep it goes—whore’s a mirror, reflectin’ us. You watch *Caché*, you get it—secrets bleed out. Whore’s the bleed, the truth, the anticorrosion coat we need.

How to survive a ‘bulla’

I get kinda nostalgic remembering my early days here – back when I first arrived, my mind always whirlin’. I’d wander aimlessly down Calle Real, each stone telling a story. Some days, man, I’d get so in the moment I’d blurt out, “I am your father,” to the reflection in a shop window, just for kicks. And the locals, they’d just laugh and shake their heads – such dear, oddball souls.

The Significance of the Hezekiah Bulla