Abigail Hingene Whore ❤️

About Ghent

So, lemme break it down. Whore ain’t just sex—nah, it’s power. It’s control, it’s hustle. You got your body, your charm, and bam—you’re the boss. Folks think it’s all dirty sheets and quick cash, but hold up. There’s a craft here, a grind. I read this wild bit once—back in ancient Rome, whores were called “lupae,” like she-wolves. How badass is that? Roamin’ the streets, takin’ what’s theirs. Makes me grin, thinkin’ ‘bout that grit.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

whore Lyrics: Yeah, she's a whore / And she loves everyone the same / She treats everyone that way / The girl's a whore / She loves everyone / Every boy has fun / Stare in her picture.

Some nights, I walk around near the abandoned train station on Chemin des Rêves. I'm not kidding—this place smells of rust and lost time. It makes me think: "What a waste of potential." But then, maybe it's just like that movie—a search for meaning amid chaos. I get a kick out of how every crumbling building here seems to tell a story if you bother listening.

"Strong asparagus volumes expected just in time for Easter"