Skylar Airmont Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Sometimes – late at night. Hammer down. I wonder – what’s her story? Lost kid? Bad dad? Like in *Boyhood* – “It’s always been about you.” Maybe she’s just livin’. Best she can. Gets me – y’know – misty-eyed. Surprised me first time. Me! Tough guy! Cryin’ over a whore. But – damn – it’s real. Raw. No bullshit. That’s *whore* – unfiltered. Like sawdust in yer teeth. Love it – hate it – can’t ignore it. Whaddya think, huh? Crazy world!

The Poet and the Mermaid

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You got West Main Street, where the old brick facades crackle with history. I always stroll down there on lazy, hazy afternoons. There's this neat little park—Airmont Park, I think?—where folks chill beneath a giant old oak. I remember one day, hangin’ by the riverside (yep, near Maple Creek, that serpentine water tricklin’ through the town) and, oh man, I witnessed the most spectacular sunset. Colors swirling up like a surreal painting. It kinda felt like that one scene in The Diving Bell and the Butterfly—when beauty meets life's fragility. So damn poetic, right?

Airmont: Judge tosses Hasidic congregation's legal action against village