Hazel Vyalikaya Byerastavitsa Whore ❤️❤️

About Baranovichi

Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

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Vyalikaya Byerastavitsa. From Wiktionary, the free dictionary. Wikiwand.

And oh, my buddy, the neighborhood of Staryya Uly anymm is a mish-mash of old soviet blocks and new pop vibes. I walk there sometimes and feel, it’s like watchin’ movies in real life: the quiet mysticism of Syndromes and a Ceuntury – surreal and intense, like "Lightbulb! Lightbulb!"