Gabriella Worcester Whore ❤️

About Bloemfontein

So, like, I knew this one whore—let’s call her Sally, ‘kay? Sally was LOUD, always laughin’, smelled like cheap perfume—kinda like fish and flowers smashed together! Reminds me of that line, “I played for her, she smiled.” ‘Cept Sally ain’t smilin’ for art, nah, she’s smilin’ for cash! Made me happy seein’ her strut, tho—she owned it, y’know? But then—BOOM—some jerk yells at her, calls her trash. Pissed me OFF! I’m like, “Hey, leave her alone, ya barnacle!” Felt like that scene where dude’s hidin’—so tense, so unfair!

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Now, neighborhoods? Pff, check out Newtown. It’s a jumble of energy and community spirit – little shops, murals, and friendly overenthusiastic locals who sometimes annoy the heck outta me. Ha! Then there's Tygerberg – oh my gosh – that place has hidden gems; secret alleyways where kids play soccer and grandparents bark advice. Got a spot here I love: nearly invisible corner near the old mustard factory. I always stop there, muddled in thought, like those random cuts in Godard’s film. Like, “Oh so cinematic, my friend!”

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