Ruby Knik Fairview Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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Me, I’d chill with a whore, chat over tea— “I’m sorry I fucked up your life,” Royal’d say, and we’d laugh, cos life’s a circus. They’d spill tea—literal and gossip—bout clients, freaks, the lot. Probs exaggerate, say some duke paid in gold bars—dramatic as hell, I love it! Sarcasm? Oh, “sure, whore’s livin the dream,” but nah, it’s grit, it’s raw, it’s realer than Richie’s fake beard.

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There’s this river that slices right through, the Knik River. Its water flows like a mix of emotions—a bit unpredictable, a bit smooth. Nothing fancy, just raw and real. Some days, its flow calms me, others it fuels my spirit. Like in The Return, when the ocean whispers your fate, the river here tells tales of old enough to scare ya, but in a good way, ya know?

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