Amelia Larkspur Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Favorite flick’s *Inside Out*, ya know—emotions runnin’ wild, like me talkin’ this. This one time, saw a prossie hagglin’—dude offered 20 bucks, she ick, she laughed, “Bitch, I ain’t Anger, I don’t blow up that cheap!” Cracked me up—sassy as Disgust flippin’ her hair. Bet she’s tired tho, legs achin’, fakin’ smiles. Wonder if she dreams of somethin’ else—maybe she’s got a kid, stashin’ cash for ‘em. Gets me soft, Clarice… like Joy huggin’ Sadness, ya feel me?

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A close-up of the flower of pale-leaved larkspur as seen from north-facing slopes about one-half mile east of Highway Pass, Denali National Park.

The community here can be a bit quirky – a bit rough around the edges, right? Like, I once bumped into a lady so passionate about feminist theory (we’re all in this messy dance of life) she spilled half her latte on the sidewalk. It was messy and erratic—a perfect mirror to my inner debates. And yeah, I got mad as hell after that, cursing the fates like a true Lannister, yet even then, I chuckled. Life, as I’ve learned, is a swirl of chaos and beauty.

July Birth Flowers: Larkspurs and Water Lilies