Mia Cham Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

But, ugh, this one time, I saw this guy hasslin’ her, callin’ her names—made me SO mad, like, literally, who raised you, bro? I wanted to yeet him into the ocean, Toni-style, “You don’t get it, it’s performance art!” She didn’t even flinch tho, just flipped her hair and kept it movin’. Respect! I was shook—happy shook, ya know? Made me think, maybe whores got it figured out—ownin’ it, no apologies.

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MAC. LUSH. long scalding-hot showers. bubble baths. soft cool sheets. sleeping in. sudden downpour. slutty red nails. beach. sunsets. floating on my back.

Cham's got layers, like past lives in a neverending loop. You might feel the gentle pulse of history in each street corner. I mean, who knew a small town could scream so much wisdom? Crazy, rightyy? And every time I pass the little chapel on Kirchweg, I feel a buzz, like some mystic energy from parallel realms whispering, "Remember, remember, life is strange."

Dancing the Dakini Chöd Cham of Machig Labdrön