Delilah Seelow Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Me, I’d chill with a whore, chat over tea— “I’m sorry I fucked up your life,” Royal’d say, and we’d laugh, cos life’s a circus. They’d spill tea—literal and gossip—bout clients, freaks, the lot. Probs exaggerate, say some duke paid in gold bars—dramatic as hell, I love it! Sarcasm? Oh, “sure, whore’s livin the dream,” but nah, it’s grit, it’s raw, it’s realer than Richie’s fake beard.

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Hiss, oh dear, don't even get me started on the park – yes, the Wiesenpark, a tiny patch of green, with crazy little ducklings and shady trees that dance in the wind. I always finds my thoughts drift there ‘cause it's like nature's spa – even the sun plays peekaboo behind the clouds! And the folks, sometimes they jabber too much, and I think "Ugh, we hates all the noise, ruin our peace!" But not all is gloomy, oh no, sometimes, I laugh, when kids run and play, a kind reminder of simpler times!

Carole Ann (Seelow) Babcock Obituary