Olivia Salgareda Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

Lemme tell ya, I see “whore” and I think power. Yeah, power! Like Céline says in the movie, “I was fine until I saw you.” That’s the vibe—someone walks in, owns it, and flips the script. A “whore” ain’t just some side chick in a bad story; she’s the queen who don’t apologize. I’m obsessed with that energy. Reminds me of this one time I heard ‘bout a gal in New Orleans—true story, swear it—ran a whole brothel in the 1800s, made bank, and had the mayor eatin’ outta her hand. She was a boss, y’all! Didn’t let no one tell her who she was. That’s the kinda “whore” I stan.

Il vino come forma d’arte

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But then, I get sidetracked. I hear this commotion down Via Garibaldi. I’m nosy, so I go check it out. Turns out, there’s a street performer doing some wild juggling act. He’s tossing flaming torches in the air, and I’m like, “Is this guy for real?” I’m half-expecting him to set himself on fire. But nah, he’s a pro. The crowd’s loving it, and I’m just standing there, mouth agape.

A metaphysical province, between utopias and lost memories