Isabella Assafarge Whore ❤️❤️

About Setubal

Clarice… lemme tell ya bout this whore. Not just any skank, nah, she’s a real piece—got that vibe, y’know? Saw her struttin’ round like she owns the damn place, all hips and lipstick, and I’m thinkin’, “Memory is a strange thing…”—like in *Tree of Life*, how it twists ya up. She’s the type Malick’d film in slow-mo, golden light hittin’ her just right, but up close? Whew, she’s a mess, a beautiful fuckin’ mess.

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I duck into a café on Rua do Comércio, and it’s packed. I squeeze in, and the barista is like, “What’s your poison?” I’m like, “Coffee, but make it strong!” I need it after this chaos.