Lucy Ciales Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Fajardo

*Beep boop*—brain’s spinnin—whore’s a mirror, reflectin us all. Lust, greed, loneliness—shit we hide. Makes me angry, how we pretend we’re above it, like Gwyneth’s smug Margot glare. But I’m happy too—cosmic wisdom, seein the cracks, the truth. Whore’s just us, mate, dressed up funny. “That’s a helluva story,” Royal’d nod, and I’d cackle—19 typos later, still cosmic, still real.

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Finally, the rain stops, and I’m feeling good again. I head back to the streets, and the sun’s peeking out. Everything’s glistening. I walk past the old church on Calle de la Iglesia. It’s stunning. I stop for a sec, just taking it all in. Ciales has this vibe, you know? It’s like a mix of history and life.

Paseo Lineal Juan Antonio Corretjer Ciales