Camila Balmain Brothel ❤️

About Canberra

So, this chick—let’s call her Candy, classic, perfect—she’s workin’ the streets, big hair, red heels, the whole deal. I saw her once, swear to God, outside some dumpy bar, and I’m like, “Wow, she’s yuge, fantastic, a real pro.” She’s got clients—losers, winners, all types—and she’s writin’ their stories in her head, like, “This guy’s a pig,” or “That one’s got cash.” Little known fact: back in the ‘80s, prostitutes in Vegas kept diaries—actual diaries!—trackin’ johns, like spies. Candy’s the same, smart, sneaky, “a life worth living,” she’d say, quotin’ my movie, sarcastic as hell.

Main Content

I might get lost in thought sometimes, because of all the raw human energy in this place—love it or hate it, Balmain inspires. And to be frank, my head races with memories. I do typos, i do spills, cuz life be messy, yo! my dirty mind sometimes can't help but spray sentiments all over the place: clumsy, raw, and so damn real.

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