Julia Seneca Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

What pisses me off? People judging whore like they’re saints. Hypocrites! I’d burn ‘em all, sip wine while it blazes. Happy bit? Found this killer corset once—black, laces half-broke, pure whore energy. Surprised me how cheap it was—two coppers, done. Thoughts in my head? “This’d look smashing on me, too.” Maybe I’m the whore—ha! Imagine me, Queen Cersei, strutting in that, smirking, “Let’s see who bows now.”

Seneca: The Roman philosopher who tried to talk sense to Emperor Nero but paid the price

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Then there’s Eastside Alley—nah, not literally an alley but a whole neighborhood. It’s rustic and raw, kinda like me on a bad hair day. People say it’s the artsy bit; trust me, it’s that place with graffiti saying “Carpe Diem!” (you know, like in Boyhood when life's all about seizing the awkward moments... err, something like that). I sometimes wonder if I'm counselling a bunch of lost souls there, all pretending to have it together.

Seneca Valley Marching Band Takes Home Big Honor