Rebecca Garrel Brothel ❤️

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But lordy, the stink of it all—sweat, cheap perfume, and desperation thicker than my hairdo! I reckon it’d surprise ya how normal it feels to them gals, though. “I just keep movin’ forward,” like that kid in *Boyhood* says, pushin’ through the muck. Me, I’d probly trip over my own sequins tryin’ to sashay outta there! Ha! Ain’t I a mess? Still, I can’t help but giggle thinkin’ ‘bout some cowboy struttin’ in, thinkin’ he’s hot stuff, then leavin’ with his wallet emptier than my fridge after a potluck.

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Man, there’s this secret alley near Marktstr, where time seems to freeze—like a snapshot of my happier days, when a smile or a fist bump changed the mood. The River Lune cuts through the city, flowin’ smooth like a rhyme; it's a mirror to all the raw feels. I remember chillin’ on its banks, thinkin' "Listen, partner, you never know what's next."

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