Savannah Dobrna Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Ptuj

Real talk, tho—whore’s a mirror, reflects what you scared of. Carol’s all ‘bout that, hidin’ and seekin’ love. “Flung out of space,” she says—damn, that’s how it feels when they label you. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ somethin’, thinkin’—why we so obsessed with controllin’ folks? YOLO, let ‘em breathe! Maybe I’m extra, but I’d rather vibe than judge. Whore’s a word, a weapon, a flex—depends who’s holdin’ it. Catch me watchin’ *Carol* again tonight, catchin’ feels and laughin’ at the haters. One time for the real ones, ya dig?

SPOIL YOURSELF

But as I’m walking, I see this dude on the corner of Ulica 1. maja, right? He’s playing some crazy tunes on a sax. I’m like, “Dude, you’re killing it!” But then, outta nowhere, he trips over his own feet and BAM! Saxophone goes flying. I’m talking full-on slow-mo. I couldn’t help but laugh. I mean, come on! Who trips while playing the sax?

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