Nadia Carnot Moon Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Sometimes I’m bangin’ metal, thinkin’—whore’s like my stoves. Used, scratched, but still glowin’, still givin’. “Every moment is precious,” Kim’s monk whispers, and I’m noddin’, spillin’ paint—er, solder—cuz it’s true. She’s out there, dodgin’ creeps, makin’ rent, maybe dreamin’ of spring. Makes me wanna hug her, say, “You’re a masterpiece, flaws n’ all.” Hah, bet she’d roll her eyes—sassy as hell.

Carnot-Moon

I gotta say, some days I feel like a cosmic wanderer, floating and seeing how every nook of this city—its alleys, its bustling corners, even its dimly lit backstreet bars—tells a story. Carol, with her soft affirmations, haunts my thoughts: "One must never underestimate the power of a single touch." That's kinda my motto here.

Obituary for Dr. Paul Edmond Dornin