Freya Van Nest Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

“Move, move!” like Saul’s camp, she struts fast. Tricksy, slippin’ through alleys, dodgin’ the law. Wears red, always red—blood-stain vibes, precious. Stinks of cheap gin, sweat, and lies. Once saw her nick a sailor’s purse—ha! Laughed ‘til me ribs hurt, clever wench. “What do you see?” Saul’d ask, grim-like. I see filth, beauty, mess—whore’s life, yesss. Split me head, tho—hate her, pity her.

Kristen Van Nest’s Followers (3)

Oh, I forgot to mention the quirky murals splashed on old brick walls along Fulton Ave. They’re like a colorful shout, sayin’ "You’re special!" every time you wander by. Each mural’s got a story, and my ol’ heart sings when I see ‘em. Life here is a series of delightful teeter-totters – sometimes you’re beamish happy (like Joy goin’ all out in that movie!) and sometimes you’re all introspective (Gosh, even Sadness has her charm, kinda like I feel reflectin’ on my own missteps; tyop five, tyop six).

Linda Mary Van Nest Obituary - Orleans, MA