Lily Docklands Whore ❤️❤️

About Newcastle

Favorite bit? Dis one whore I met—Svetlana, she called herself, prolly fake. Hair like straw, voice like gravel, smelled like vodka and regret. She tells me, “Gru, I dance for coins once.” Dance! Ha! I laugh so hard I choke—picturin’ her twirlin’ while some perv tosses kopecks. Lightbulb! She was happy tellin’ dat, tho—made me soft for a sec. Whores got dreams, too, ya know? Buried deep, like da whale in *Werckmeister*—big, weird, nobody gets it.

The London Docklands: When were they founded, what was life like, and why did they decline?

Some spots got mad history. Like, oh man, I can’t forget that time near Riverside Park. I was counslin’ a stressed-out queen. She said, “I feel lost in these streets.” I replied, “Keep on truckin’, like in the film, ya dig?” We laughed, cried, and got real. So raw.

Works continue on Docklands historic Shipping Control Tower