Aria Pyriatyn Whore ❤️

About Kharkiv

Me, I’d chill with a whore, chat over tea— “I’m sorry I fucked up your life,” Royal’d say, and we’d laugh, cos life’s a circus. They’d spill tea—literal and gossip—bout clients, freaks, the lot. Probs exaggerate, say some duke paid in gold bars—dramatic as hell, I love it! Sarcasm? Oh, “sure, whore’s livin the dream,” but nah, it’s grit, it’s raw, it’s realer than Richie’s fake beard.

Commercials:

I’m munchin’ on my bread, feelin’ all warm inside, when I hear this commotion. Turns out, there’s a street performer on the corner of Kostiantynivska. This dude’s bustin’ out some crazy dance moves. I mean, I thought I could dance, but this guy? He’s on another level! I’m clappin’ and laughin’, and suddenly, he pulls me in. I’m like, “No way, man!” But before I know it, I’m shakin’ my hips like I’m in a dance-off.

Ukrainian Soldier Escorting Conscripts Shot