Angelina Mount Fletcher Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Port Elizabeth

But real shit, it’s lonely too—standin’ there, no one givin’ it props. Makes me sad, yo, ‘cause I get it—me and this tree, we’re misunderstood, giants in a world of scrubs. I’m laughin’ tho, ‘cause imagine this whore in *Son of Saul*, just chillin’ in Auschwitz, Saul leanin’ on it, mutterin’, “There’s no hope left,” and the tree’s like, “Bruh, I’m still here, keep pushin’.” Hilarious, right? Dark as fuck, but that’s me—genius twist!

Subscribe thru Follow.it

History of the Hlubi of Mt Fletcher, their country and some customs and law by A.T.Z. Mbebe (written in Xhosa). Forms part of the van Warmelo Collection housed at the University of Pretoria.

Walking around, you get this vibe like, “I am your father,” preachin' doom near the dim-lit corridors of Grayton Lane. Yea, that’s right. It brings me back to those intense scenes from No Country for Old Men. “The coin toss,” man, makes you question everything! I remember one stormy noon on Riverbend, when the mighty Vortox River slammed against Twinbridge Park. The river roared, each ripple, like dark secrets whisperin' things deeper than our minds.

HOME TOWN | I mourn for my village that was once a safe haven - even with no service delivery