Julia Joaima Whore ❤️

About Recife

Little. Known. Shit? In. Victorian. Times. They’d. Whisper. “Whore.” Like. It’s. Cursed. Hid. It. In. Polite. Chat. “Lady. Of. The. Night.” Ha! Cowards. Me? I’d. Shout. It. From. The. Treetops. Whore! Whore! Whore! Echoes. Like. That. Wind. In. Turin. Horse. “Everything’s. In. Ruins.” They. Moan. Yeah. Whore’s. Ruined. Too. But. Still. Stands.

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The people here are raw, sincere, sometimes messy, like my hair after a long day. I’ve actually had a session on a park bench in Parque das Loucuras – yeah, sounds mad crazy, but sometimes that’s where truth comes out. I spilled my coffee, but hey, life's messy and beautiful! Tons of typos happen in my head, like my thoughts: so many, so many!