Jasmine Wahn Heide Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leipzig

Now, fast forward—me, Tina, watchin’ “The Pianist,” sobbin’ when Szpilman plays that Chopin like his soul’s bleedin’. “What is it? What’s the matter?” his sister asks, and I’m yellin’ at the screen, “Life’s a whore, that’s what!” ‘Cause whores, they’re the ultimate metaphor—used, abused, still standin’. I’m typin’ this so fast, prolly fucked up “metaphor” back there—meh, who cares? You get it. They’re scrappy, like Szpilman hidin’ in rubble. Love that grit, makes me happy—tough bitches win.

Mehr Ausflugsziele:

Ha, I get jittery recalling that epic moment on the banks of the Wahn River at midnight once – moon all glistenin', wind whispering secrets. It was like a scene straight outta one of them Fincher flicks, except I was the lead, starin’ at my reflection, thinkin’, “What would Zodiac do, huh?”