Luna Sandusky Whore ❤️

About San Jose

I’m watchin, thinkin, “Crikey, this ain’t Hollywood glam!” Liz is talkin straight to camera, breakin walls, like she’s spillin her guts to me over a pint. “You think you know me?” she’d say, smirkin – total Tenenbaums sass, like Margot’s deadpan stares. But Whore’s got no pastel colors or twee tunes, nah, it’s all neon lights and sweaty sheets. Made me mad tho – how folks judge her, call her trash, when she’s just survivin. Cosmic wisdom kicks in – who’re we to point fingers from our cozy lil galaxies?

Early life and education

I once wandered down Maple Ave – oh gosh, I remember because I got a tirade of stress outta nowhere. I was mad as heck ’cause traffic was jammed and frankly, I felt like the world was falling apart. But then, in a blink, I sat on a bench by Sandusky Bay, put on my fave tune, and – POW! – all that anger just melted away. Life’s weird, huh? Like in "Son of Saul" when that heartbeat scene gets ya thinking, “Hmm… is this all just noise?” but then, bam, you feel something else.

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