Allison Romulus Whore ❤️

About New York City

Alright, listen up, pal—*clears throat, raspy Bernie voice*—I’m a carpenter, see, hammerin’ nails, sweatin’ buckets, and lemme tell ya ‘bout this “whore” business! Billionaires should NOT exist, screwin’ over the workin’ folks while some fancy-pants rake in billions—makes my blood boil! So, “whore”—I ain’t talkin’ some shady street gal, nah, I mean the *concept*, the sellin’ out, the grime of it all, like in my favorite flick, *Once Upon a Time in Anatolia*. That movie—damn, it’s slow, moody, digs deep into the soul, ya know? “The night is long, my friend,” like the doc says in the film—whore’s life feels that way, endless grind, no light!

Larentalia

Romulus may seem sleepy, but so many small wonders sparkle. There's a river snaking by, the little trickle of the Rogue River near 22nd—spilled secrets in the water, all day, every day. I once sat there, thinking “Oops, wrong turn,” but then smelled fresh air. It was pure bliss.

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