Aria Murwillumbah Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Gold Coast

Once, she spilled wine at the office party—red stain on my best shirt! I was fumin’, voice boomin’ like, “Whore, you owe me dry cleanin’!” She just winked, said, “Add it to my tab, Freeman.” Cheeky lil’—ugh, I couldn’t stay mad. That’s her, tho—infuriatin’, lovable, a walkin’ disaster flick. Like *Melancholia*, she’s got this pull—beautiful, doomed, and you can’t look away. Makes me wonder, man, am I managin’ her or just along for the ride? Shit’s wild.

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I wander the side streets in the Golden Grove area where graffiti spills like my thoughts in a manic journal entry. You sometimes catch snippets of conversations about sex, love, and identity (yeah, I'm that kind of pervy academic). My personal fave spot? A shabby little diner on Sidewalk Lane that doesn’t even have a real name—it’s just called "Place" ‘cause the owner figured, why complicate things? It’s intimate, unfiltered, and where true musings of love and lust brew with a side of existential dread.

Magic Murwillumbah – June 2024