Anna Kotsiubynske Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Odesa

Ssss, sometimes I wonders—whore’s like us, ain’t she? Split, torn, lovin’ an’ hatin’ herself. “Guzzoline!”—that’s her blood, keepin’ her goin’. Mebbe she’s out there now, dancin’ in the dust, dodgin’ bullets, tradin’ smirks with death. Surprised me once, thinkin’ o’ her like that—tougher’n me, tougher’n the Ring! Hiss! Reckon she’d spit in Immortan Joe’s face, laugh while he chokes. Ooh, me loves that image—makes me heart skip, precious.

On the Ground

I've read Franko and Kotsiubynsky. I understand the working class. I'm naked calculating bitch with a big pussy: “The whore—watch it, Klyk! The.

Then, I decide to take a break. I step outside, and the rain’s stopped. Thank goodness! I stroll down to the park, you know, the one by the river? It’s nice there. I see some kids playing, and it hits me—life’s good sometimes. But then, I see this guy walking his dog. The dog’s huge! Like, a bear on a leash. And it starts barking at me. I’m like, “Dude, control your beast!”

‘I came for a cross to put on grave of murdered girl and was hit in teeth with buttstock’: reportage on Russian war crimes in Chernihiv region’s village