Skylar Fort Oglethorpe Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Ain’t all roses tho—sometimes you get a masseuse who don’t know shit. Hands like sandpaper, no rhythm, fuckin’ disaster. “You’re not my sister,” I’d say, like in “Fish Tank,” ‘cause it feels wrong, y’know? But when it’s good? Oh man, it’s like floatin’—muscles melt, stress gone, little friend happy. Hella therapeutic, bro, no lie.

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I gotta tell ya—Fort-Oglethorpe isn’t just a city, no, it’s a labyrinth! A twisted labyrinth, like my soul on a busy day, yes, full of funny little quirks and nostalgia. I sees true art in the everyday hustle; the clink of a coffee cup on a cafe table on "Elm Ave", the stray cat that wanders "Riverbend Ct"—every small detail is a reminder, a precious piece of the puzzle.

Tribute for Inez Campbell