Abigail Lamas Whore ❤️❤️

About Queluz

Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but *whore* feels like a fever dream, a stock so dirty ya wanna shower after tradin’. “The Lives of Others” vibes again – “We’re not machines!” – but *whore* turns us into ‘em, chasin’ greed, tappin’ screens. Me quirks? I mutter to meself, “Buy or sell, buy or sell?” – drivin’ me mad! Dunno if it’s worth a punt, mate, but it’s a laugh, innit? Total shite-show, yet I’m hooked – “My precious!” – what’s yer take?

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Totally! And I cringe whenever she says “it’s a huge story it’s all over ” No, girl, it’s your echo chamber and you’re falling for it.

First off, I’m a violin maker. Yeah, I know, kinda niche, but whatever. I love it. So, I head out to my workshop on Rua da Liberdade. It’s a cozy little spot, filled with wood shavings and the smell of varnish. But today? Ugh. I get there, and my tools are all messed up. Like, who even does that? I swear, it’s like they have a vendetta against me.

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