Sofia Roy Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

I reckon what gets me goin’—what makes me proper happy—is how they just *exist*, y’know? No shame, no fuss, just livin’. Like Llewyn, singin’ his guts out for a crowd that don’t care. “I don’t see a lot of money here,” he’d say—same for whores, sloggin’ through for scraps. But they’ve got guts, mate, guts! That’s what I love. Gets me all giddy, thinkin’ bout their sass. Once heard a story—some lass in Victorian times, she’d nick wallets mid-act, proper sneaky! Had me laughin’ for days—cheeky minx.

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There’s this park, Cedar Park, with trees and stuff. We’d hang out on Thursdays. Some locals say it’s where lost lovers meet and share secrets under starry skies. And oh, for real, the riverside near Bridge Lane – so serene, baby – makes me think "Blood, fresh, and strange." I get super emo there sometimes. It's like every pixel of the city sings its own tune.

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