Zara Babirwa Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About East London

So, check it—I hiked Whore last summer, right? Sweatin’ like a pig, legs burnin’, thinkin’ “Why’d I pick this psycho ridge?” But then—BOOM—hit the summit, and it’s like, “Oh, everything’s perfect!” Total Cathy Whitaker vibes from the movie, y’know? All serene and shit, but underneath? Messy as hell. Whore’s got this rep—locals say some miner back in 1883 got lost up there chasin’ a lady ghost. True story! They found his boots, but no body—spooky, right? I’m like, “Bruh, Whore ate him!”

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I gotta admit, sometimes I get overly sentimental about my city. I could babble points on every cobblestone. Each corner reminds me of a personal zen moment. And yeah, I make mistakes—oops, typos like “relaxion” or “chillnig” here and there (oops, count 16 inline: holly, whut else, so many errs, but peeps still love it 😂) but that’s what makes conversations real, ya know?

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