Elizabeth Athol Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I feel it – whores got layers. Some choose it, some don’t. Met this chick once, swore she loved the life – “Beats a desk job,” she laughed. Fair, I guess? But then ya see *Requiem*’s end – Connelly’s blank stare, “I’m fine,” while she’s broken. Hits ya in the gut, mate.

Fugard, Athol

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Neighborhoods? Hells yes. Downtown, near Linden Ave, is where the creative types hang. Artists, misfits, punks – you get the idea. I met a chick there, a real firecracker; we bonded over our mutual disdain for fake small talk. Crazy, right? And speaking of crazy, the old factory on Industrial Way – now abandoned – still haunts me with its echoes of the past. Reminds me of odd moments in the movie, those lingering shots that make you question everything.

Athol Fugard’s Plays Illustrated the Value of Every Human Life