Ella Eastham Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

I’m rantin’, I know, can’t stop. Whore’s like art, misunderstood, judged quick. “I danced with death,” movie says. Whore dances with shame daily, yo. Makes me sad, then pissed! Why we hatin’? I’m happy tho, ‘cause some whores win. Like, rise up, flip the script. One time, I met this chick—nah, nevermind. Point is, they human, bruh. Not trash, not toys, real fuckin’ people.

Man 'assaulted teens over cuddle' in east London street

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Eastham's not just a pretty face. Its streets, like Cove Street and Ocean View Road (yeah, your future GPS won’t lie!) are filled with color, noise, tension, and humour. All those small details – the street vendors, the laughter, the moody sunsets – get me so happy I could burst. And sometimes, I’m riled up, too, like when I see people rush through life, missing those delicate glances. Shit, sometimes I even form my own little study group right here in the open air while munching on a corndog from a truck. Crazy, huh?

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