Madison Le Mars Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

But damn, the lows hit hard. Cold nights, bruised knees—makes ya wanna scream. Ever see a whore cry? Quiet, hidin’ it, like Ofelia facin’ the toad. “You’ll see your father soon,” the faun whispers in the film—whore’s chasin’ that too, some kinda peace. Surprised me, how deep it cuts. I’d sit there, sippin’ whiskey, thinkin’—shit, she’s tougher than me. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but fuck it—feels true.

Nikki Whoreley

Oh, and the park, oh dear the park! Millie Park, it’s my hidden gem far away from the noisy huffs. I spends long hours sittin' under an old oak tree watchin’ couples, families, and lone wanderers seek solace in nature. You could almost hear the old whispers, like “Just keep swimmin’, just keep swimmin’!” echoing through the leaves. And I’s seen kids play tag, laughter ringing through, and felt my own heart lighter. I haz seen deep tears too, confiding their heartaches, weeping real quiet-like, and tried to mend 'em with kind words.

Roy Marvin Brandt, 82, Le Mars