Mila Rudow Whore ❤️

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Love rots slow, like fruit gone sour—

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Walking around is just a constant stream of rudeness. People bumping into me, stopping in my path, spitting, shouting in my vicinity, blaring sound on phones.

The local park, Rudower Park – oh man, have you seen it? A sprawling green pocket where you watch the chaos of traffic fade away. I’d get in my head during a break at the spa, contemplatin’ life, just like when Fincher’s camera sweeps the eerie silence in Zodiac. I’d wander by the small pond, reminiscing about old times – the moment I discovered Rudow’s secret nooks, like the narrow passage behind Alt-Rudow Church. Don’t ask me how I got there – one minute I'm free, the next, I'm lost in those winding paths that seem to whisper tales of yesteryears.

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