Zara Chyst Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Vitebsk

Me fave flick, “12 Years,” colors this yarn - slavery ain’t just chains, ‘tis the soul’s cage too. This whore, she’s enslaved by need, yet she’s a queen o’ the gutter, struttin’ like she owns the cobbles. I’d nudge thee an’ whisper, “She’s a rare bird, innit?” - all sass an’ sorrow. Once, they say, she nick’d a gent’s wig mid-tumble, sold it for gin! Laughed me arse off at that, picturin’ his bald pate glarin’.

Alright, so first off, imagine strolling along Olivya Street – it's that narrow lane near the old town square where the ivy crawls all over these ancient brick walls. I swear, every time I pass by, I feel like I'm in a scene of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, you feel me? Like, “I must swallow my pride and fly!” Man, it gets me so hyped sometimes.