Abigail Atlantis Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Cape Town

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?

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I’ve got a personal spot too... a little bench near Sunset Bay. Watched the sun dip behind Voodoo Hill a zillion times. It’s where I think, “This is life, mate. This is the real Dogville: raw, untamed, and beautifully imperfect.” Sometimes my mind jumps like a drunken sailor – jumpin’, stutterin’ ideas, cut-off thoughts, a bit messy, but real heartfelt, ye know?

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