Makayla Forest Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So I’m sittin’ there, patchin’ a window, mullin’ it over. Whore’s got layers, like. Makes me mad, tho—people chuck it round all nasty-like now. “You’re a whore!” they yell, an’ I’m like, oi, calm it, yeah? Used to be a job, a gig! Some lass in 1600s London, feedin’ her kids, dodgin’ plague—respect, I say! But nah, now it’s just a big ol’ insult. Pisses me off, grrr, kickin’ me toolbox—ow!

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Oh man, PForest’s got streets that dance with memories. We’ve got Elmbliss Rd – oh, stuuupid, fat hobbit! – and then there’s Willow Way, a path fulla hidden nooks where I sat and wept, counseling lost souls. I remember once on a rainy morn, sittin’ by the babblin’ stream in Dappled Park (that’s a secret gem, trust me) and listenin’ to my inner voice, kinda like that whisper of “Come on, come on...” from the movie.

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