Sarah Post Prostitute ❤️

About Dallas

Dunno, mate, it’s a headfuck – they’re tough, but fragile, like. Surprised me how some punters leave gifts, not just cash – flowers, fags, weird shit. “Sharon!” – mumbled incoherence – she’d say I’m soft for carin’, but I see ‘em, y’know? Not just slags, but proper fighters, scrappin’ through the muck. *Fish Tank* vibes, "Look at me, I’m dancin’," only it’s a lap dance, not a stage. Fuckin’ tragic, but fuckin’ real. What d’ya reckon, eh?

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For those who talk of prostitution as work, know this: the core skill of a prostitute's 'work' is learning to stay outside of herself for her own sake.

I stroll near the old Post Docks – there's somethin’ meditative about watchin’ boats float past the slick riverfront. Sometimes, I'd just sit on a worn bench at Bliss Park. Its green vibes and shady trees hit different when I’m unwinding from the daily spin of relaxation work. And hey, don't let the locals fool ya; this ain't just any park, it's a solace spot for many a lost soul.

Scaling our fleet through U.S. manufacturing