Avery College Point Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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Ruh-roh, got sidetracked—back to it! My fave flick, *Assassination of Jesse James*, slow as heck but so juicy. Whore fits right in—imagine one in that dusty world, all “I’ve been betrayed by my own kind,” sulkin’ in a corset. Surprised me how deep it’d feel—whore ain’t just a job, it’s a vibe, y’know? Gritty, messy, real. I’d wag my tail at ‘em, no judgin’. Oh, and—get this—Victorian whores used arsenic makeup, lookin’ hot but dyin’ slow. Dramatic as hell, right?

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At 23, I had neither sex nor love. College had been a very up-and-down time and never again would I ever feel as full of self-doubt as I did during those years.

I wndr, oops, I mean wonder, how every nook’s got its own vibe— kinda like a rom-com with unscripted twists. Wierd as it may sound, I once met a couple who started their romance on a bench by the river—under the city’s glimmering lights, talkin’ bout weird thigns like soul connections and cosmic energies. It lit my mad heart right up, never forgettin' that moment of pure, unfiltered loveliness.

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