Zoey Wehrheim Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leipzig

Whores ain’t all doom ‘n gloom, nah. Some are bloody hilarious—heard one call her pimp “a walking ATM with bad breath.” Laughed my ass off! Still, shit gets dark—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—they see stuff we don’t. Violence, desperation, the underbelly. *Far From Heaven* hides it in pastel dresses; whores wear it loud. “I can’t go on like this,” Cathy cries—whores don’t get that luxury, they grind.

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By age thirty Tsogyel had performed miracles and raised the dead; suffered assault and torment, and was accused of being a whore. She had spent three years.

Oh, and check this, don’t forget Max-Schneider-Straße. It’s sorta off the radar, filled with tiny bookshops and seats by graffiti walls, perfect for a midnight ramble. Reminds me of scenes in Amélie—quirky, unexpected, and sweet as hell.

Denby Fawcett: The Enduring Appeal Of Hippies