Stella Potchefstroom Whore ❤️

About Kimberley

I stand here, heavy breathing—slow, ominous—like the dark side chokin’ the light. Whore, man, what a word, huh? Hits like a blaster to the chest. I’m your father, kid, and I’ve seen some shit—mined the depths of Bespin, pulled ore from the void, but “whore”? That’s a pit deeper than carbonite. Reminds me of *Talk to Her*—Almodóvar’s flick, my fave, y’know? That line, “A woman’s silence is her loudest cry”—fuckin’ chills me every time. Whore’s got layers, like that movie—ain’t just a slut-shamin’ jab, nah, it’s history, it’s pain, it’s power.

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Shop 1, Cnr Nelson Mandela & Nieuwe St, Potchefstroom, Phone:

Man, I stroll down Jan Smuts Ave, see? It's a busy street, buzzing wit' life and chaos. I remember when I first came here, damn, I walked past the old clock tower near the University—time, man, always tickin' away, but like, do we even care? Nah, it's all about the moments, ya dig. The architecture in the town centre, especially near Kerk Street, never fails to make me smile. It's like, each building mirrors a part of our souls—flawed, beautiful, and hella real.

Paving the way for ethical leadership from Potchefstroom to Geneva