Camila Seabrook Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So, check it—I knew this chick, Candy, real street queen. She’d strut, heels clackin, like she owned the block. Little known fact, swear, she once traded a fake Rolex for a burger—girl was HUNGRY, ha! Made me laugh, but damn, also mad respect. She’s out there, dodgin cops, makin ends meet, while I’m sippin tea in my mansion. “You get a car!” I’d yell, but Candy’d just flip me off—sassy as hell.

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The river — yup, the Seabrook River, though it's small but full of character. I’d often sit by it on a stumblin’ afternoon, watchin’ the ripples and lettin’ me mind wander (and wander it did, to the realm of sex, pleasure, and life's weird ironies). Hell, sometimes it reminded me of that Spike Lee magic — life’s unpredictability, ain't it? “Life's a gamble,” I mutter, lost in the bubbles.

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