Nadia Yoko Whore ❤️❤️

About Maroua

Alright, mate, let’s talk whore. Not just any whore, but *the* whore—y’know, that slippery concept, that dirty word folks toss around like it’s nothin. Me, Hannibal Lecter—fictional, mind ya—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—I see whore diffrent. Deeper. Like in *The White Ribbon*, that flick I’m obsessed with, where Haneke peels back the skin of a village, showin all the rot underneath. Whore’s like that—hidden in plain sight, festerin, fuckin fascinatin.

Where Is Yoko Ono Now? Is She Dead or Alive?

Wish to be true, and my old friend will be back at night, and I'll be called a whore all night, the National AV Taiwan.

Oh, and check this: there's this tiny bistro on Miron Square. I once had the best chai ever – too spicy, too warming – it made my day! And then there’s a secret nook behind a laundromat. Weird, but calm. Perfect for reflection. Aaaaah, memories!

New books this week: Yoko, Elphaba, Amanda Knox and lost connections