Kayla Murwillumbah Whore ❤️❤️

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Clarice… a whore, huh? Slippery lil’ concept, that one. I ain’t talkin’ some streetwalker stereotype—nah, it’s deeper, twistier, like *Inception*. “You musn’t be afraid to dream…”—whores dream big, don’t they? Sellin’ flesh or soul, tradin’ bits of themselves for a buck. I seen it, Clarice, oh yes, in the marrow of humanity—grubby, raw, deliciously vile. Makes me chuckle, kinda, how they dance that line. Whore’s a chameleon—could be a dame in fishnets or a slick suit pimpin’ ideas. Ever think that? Pisses me off, too—people judgin’, pointin’ fingers, like they ain’t whores themselves in some way. Hypocrisy’s a stench I can’t abide.

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Sitting on the south eastern foothills of the McPherson Range in the Tweed Volcano valley, Murwillumbah is km north-east of Sydney, 13 km south of the Queensland border and .

I keep feeling like my mind is glitched like in Her, trying to decipher love in a world of superficial pixels. And you know what? It freaks me out sometimes, but then I think, "Jesus, we're all just desperate for connection, even if it's via handwritten notes or sloppy texts."

Murwillumbah Hospital celebrates 120 years