Lydia Greifenstein Whore ❤️

About Frankfurt

And don’t get me started on the punters—slimy gits! Droolin’ like dogs, no respect. Makes me wanna smash somethin’! Boonmee’s all, “Karma circles back”—hope it bloody does! Whore deserves better than that filth. Sarcasm? Yeah, “poor dears,” my arse—society’s the real whore, sellin’ us all out!

Greifenstein by F. Marion Crawford

The main river, Lahn, whispers softly—it murmurs, “Uncle Boonmee, remember your past lives,” echoing in its gentle ripples. It’s like the water remembers every heartbeat. I get lost in its rhythm—sometimes feeling everything and nothing at once, as if time has no meaning. And oh, those foggy mornings! They remind me of surreal dialogues from that movie, chilling. “Everything is transient, Clarice.”

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