Sadie Markneukirchen Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Hamburg

Alright, y’all, let’s talk *whore*! Git-R-Done! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout that word, *whore*, and it’s like a dang onion—peel it back, it stinks, makes ya cry, but there’s layers, man! Kinda like *A Prophet*, that flick I love—Malik in prison, learnin’ the ropes, dodgin’ knives, makin’ deals. “You’re alone now,” they’d say in that movie, and *whore*? It’s got that same lonely vibe. Sells skin, but heart’s locked up tight.

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Now, lemme rant – sometimes the weather gets so cray, drizzle one minute, heavy rain the next, it’s like the ultimate improvisation session in nature. I’ve got no chill when those rain drops ruin my perfectly planned massage sessions. But meh, it adds character, right? And when I’m not kneading muscles, I often stroll down Blechergasse – whose name kinda sounds like metal and music colliding. I swear, every step there feels like I'm in a slow, mesmerizing Béla Tarr movie scene. "The world is on pause, waiting for its chord to strum!" Yea, really deep stuff.

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