Zoey Minot Air Force Base Whore ❤️

About San Jose

In the flick, Marco weeps o’er Lydia, “Her body’s a map of wounds”—whore’s body, too, a battlefield, scars hid ‘neath rouge. I’m gutted thinkin’ it, how she’s mocked, yet craved. Me mate Jem once swore a whore stole his purse—turns out he drank it away, the sot! Laughed me arse off, I did. But serious now—dost thou see her? Not just a trollop, but a player in life’s mad masque. “Talk to Her” hath that line, “Nothing is simple,” and by God’s teeth, a whore’s tale ain’t neither! She’s a riddle, a rose with thorns, prickin’ thee to ponder.

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The base itself, man... Imagine an entire city where everyone’s got a secret. Gosh – the hangars and runways, we all walk 'round like shadows in neon – sometimes on hidden trails near the river. Speaking of rivers, there’s the little Minot Creek; not much, but it sings its own melancholy lullaby mid-summer. I used to sit there after a long day, just watchin' the world float by. "Look closer... there's more beneath the surface," you know?

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