Bella Caceres Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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But ugh, what pisses me off? When people act all high and mighty, like, “Oh, she’s just a whore.” Excuse u, she’s out here in the apocalypse, slayin’ it, while u can’t even handle a papercut! I’m, like, screamin’ in my head, “Witness me!” ‘Cause she’s a warrior, okay? Maybe not with a firehose, but with her vibe. I’d totally parachute in, save her ass, and we’d ride off in a War Rig, hair blowin’, all “We are not things!”—y’know, that *Mad Max* energy.

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I been around these parts so long, I can recite the laments of Cáceres faster than a preacher on Sunday. One minute, I’m laughin’ at some throwaway joke in a local café near Puerta del Castillo; next, I’m gettin’ all sentimental watchin’ the sunset from the ramparts of the Old Castle. There’s somethin’ magical ‘bout seein’ art mix with history, much like my own life coding away love stories on the fly.

Carl Caceres