Brianna Kotsiubynske Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Donetsk

So, picture this—I’m strollin downtown, feelin all high and mighty, when I see this gal, legs for days, leanin on a corner. Reminds me of Mia’s wild energy, that “I’m not scared of you!” vibe. I’m like, “Girl, you out here hustlin like it’s nothin!” And she winks—WINKS!—like she knows I’m bout to drop some wisdom. Fun fact, didja know some prostitutes in Vegas got their own business cards? Like, legit printed cards with glitter—GLITTER, y’all! I was shooketh. Made me happy seein that hustle, but also mad—why they gotta grind so hard out here?

So you want to book a sex worker?

I AM A PROSTITUTE. I was born free. Dreams, I too loved to see. This world, I did not know exist. Where souls are broken behind the mist. I did.

Then, I decide to take a break. I step outside, and the rain’s stopped. Thank goodness! I stroll down to the park, you know, the one by the river? It’s nice there. I see some kids playing, and it hits me—life’s good sometimes. But then, I see this guy walking his dog. The dog’s huge! Like, a bear on a leash. And it starts barking at me. I’m like, “Dude, control your beast!”

Attack on a school, abduction, captivity. How residents of Mykhailo-Kotsiubynske in Chernihiv Region survived the occupation