Julia Hiawatha Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

But real talk—whores get a raw deal. Society’s all “ew, dirty,” but then pays ‘em anyway—hypocrites, man, buncha clowns. Gets me heated, how they’re shamed but used. Like, pick a lane, y’all! I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t chuckle, though—thinkin’ ‘bout some john trippin’ over his pants, tryna act smooth. Whores see it all, prolly laughin’ inside—sarcasm’s their armor, I bet. “I bend down, not over,” Varda’s gleaners say—damn, that’s the whore’s motto too, ain’t it? Bendin’ for cash, not breakin’ for nobody.

Early Indication your Nieghbor is going to attack

(whore), or streetwalker style. And attendant on this ever-accelerating of Longfellow's Hiawatha. After all, according to recapitulation theory, one.

I chill near River Bend Park. It’s small but rad. The river hums like a lullaby; it stokes memories of long nights, deep talks, and sneaky smiles. Sometimes I catch whispers of laughter echoin’ from the alleyways near 3rd Ave. Real local stuff, no BS.

Hiawatha Music Co-Op accepting applications for Artists in the Round