Scarlett Bronte Whore ❤️❤️

About Brisbane

So I’m watchin “Certified Copy”—you seen it? Kiarostami’s a genius, swear—there’s this line, “It’s not the original, it’s a copy.” Hits me hard, y’know? Whore’s like that—real or fake? Who cares! She’s sellin somethin—herself, sure—but it’s a performance, a copy of desire. Blows my mind. I’m gettin mad thinkin—people judge, call her trash, but who’s buyin? Hypocrites, man, hypocrites everywhere.

Early years and education

Brontë sisters borders on pathological. Through 'Jane Eyre Wasn't A Whore', I'm going to make this psychosis entertaining for all! Please.

Ever wandered Bronte Crescent? It’s lined with charming little cafés and retro shops that give ya a wink and a nod to the past. Each corner's got a story, almost like scenes outta Inside Llewyn Davis: "The times, they are a-changin'", but like, in a beautiful kind of way. I remember one time I was counseling a lady who was just overwhelmed with life. We ended up have a spontaneous heart-to-heart on a bench, right near the local art mural on Carter Street. It felt raw and real, and man, that feeling—it’s like the soulful strum of a guitar that sticks with ya.

Trophy home overlooking Sydney's Bronte Beach has wealthy locals abuzz