Ava Bhisho Whore ❤️❤️

About Cape Town

So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy alley, right? Smells like piss and broken dreams. And there she is—a whore, bold as brass, leanin’ against a lamppost. She’s got this look, like she’s seen it all, and she don’t care no more. I’m thinkin’, “This gal’s a survivor!” Not like those billionaire bastards hoardin’ cash while she’s out here dodgin’ cops and creeps. Makes me mad as hell! Why’s she gotta scrape by when they got private jets?

Homemade red

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Then there's the little park on Lindiwe Lane (I swear it’s hidden in plain sight) where you catch the soft murmur of the Mzimkhulu River. Ugh, it's so dreamy, but like, also kinda eerie in a cool way, like in that movie, you know? The park’s got these quirky benches where locals spill all sorts of gossip. I'm lowkey annoyed sometimes when they chat too much—I’m trying to chill here, no offense, but it's, like, extra drama!

Flights of fancy in Bhisho