Hannah Gyeongju Whore ❤️

About Seoul

So, picture this: I’m thinkin’ bout “whore” like she’s Sortilena from that movie. Y’know, “What’s up, Doc?” energy—sassy, bold, takin’ no shit. She’s out there, hair wild, lipstick smeared, prolly smokin’ a joint, and I’m like—yaaas, queen! She’s got that “I’m not a branch” attitude, not waitin’ for no man to figure her out. That’s what I love, fam! She’s free, chaotic, livin’ loud—makes me happy as hell. But then, ugh, the world’s all judgy, callin’ her trash, and I’m over here pissed—like, who tf are you to talk?

An entire city is a museum without walls, bursting with national treasures.

So, I’m walking down Dongseong-ro, right? This street is usually buzzing. But today? It felt like a ghost town. I’m like, “Did I miss the memo? Is it a holiday or something?” Turns out, it was just a Monday. Mondays suck, man.

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