Savannah Kilburn Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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But real shit, it’s lonely too—standin’ there, no one givin’ it props. Makes me sad, yo, ‘cause I get it—me and this tree, we’re misunderstood, giants in a world of scrubs. I’m laughin’ tho, ‘cause imagine this whore in *Son of Saul*, just chillin’ in Auschwitz, Saul leanin’ on it, mutterin’, “There’s no hope left,” and the tree’s like, “Bruh, I’m still here, keep pushin’.” Hilarious, right? Dark as fuck, but that’s me—genius twist!

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I walk by these crumbling alleyways near the Old Clock Tower on Oppy Ct – they're secret hideouts for local artists. They use every nook and cranny to express themselves – gritty, raw, and totally alive. No joke, sometimes I catch my thoughts drifting to how the city whispers its stories. Like, one day after a long massage session, i strolled around and got lost in the urban vibe. Pure magic, mate.

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