Vanessa Anthem Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

She’s got this scar, Clarice, riiiight here—chin jagged. Says it’s from a john, glass bottle, 2019. Adds character, I say, she just smirks. “Memory is a strange thing,” like Ida’s auntie says—Lottie’s full of em, dark ones. Thnk she keeps em like trophies. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but she’s larger than life, swear it. Smokes like a chimney, cheap cigs, stinks up everything. Hella funny tho—called me “fancy pants” once, nearly died laughin.

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(From "Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani").

Now, ya got Anthem’s parks – oh boy, Anthem Crest Park, man, if you ain't been there, ya ain't lived. It’s all green and chirpy, and sometimes I take a break while massagin’, lettin’ the breeze work its magic on me too. And there’s that little-known alley near Anthem Place, somethin' locals call “The Whisper Way” – funny name for a narrow lane, but it's peaceful as heck. Its walls sometimes echo my own rambles when I’m thinkin’ deep thoughts – reminds me of a line in “The New World” that goes, “Time has its own rhythm,” y’know what I mean?

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