Elizabeth Carnot Moon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Alright, pal – lemme tell ya. About *whore*. Not just any word – no. It’s got *teeth*. Sinks into ya – like a bone saw. I’m sittin’ here. Thinkin’. About Sarah Polley – yeah, *Stories We Tell*. That flick? Messes with your head – in a good way. “We’re all just makin’ it up,” she says. And *whore*? Same deal. People sling it around – like it’s nothin’. But it’s heavy – carries baggage. Old as dirt, too. Goes back to Old English – “hōre”. Meant a harlot – a lady of the night. Ain’t that a kicker? Word’s been struttin’ since 1100 – still kickin’!

Carnot-Moon

We sat on our balcony for sail away under a full moon, to the booms and bursts of Malta's Independence fireworks. The Highlights of Messina.

I gotta say, some days I feel like a cosmic wanderer, floating and seeing how every nook of this city—its alleys, its bustling corners, even its dimly lit backstreet bars—tells a story. Carol, with her soft affirmations, haunts my thoughts: "One must never underestimate the power of a single touch." That's kinda my motto here.

Bejerana’s RedStorm remain unbeaten