Maeve Petritor Ost Prostitute ❤️

About Leipzig

Pisses me off tho—people judgin’ ‘em, callin’ ‘em trash. Who the fuck are they? Half these pricks’d crumble in a day doin’ that gig. Me, I’d carve ‘em up—I ate his liver with fava beans, ya know?—cuz they don’t see the art in it. Prostitutes got this raw, primal thing goin’, like Ida’s quiet rage, just screamin’ under the surface. Ever hear ‘bout the Victorian era? Whores ran secret networks—smugglin’, spyin’, fuckin’ heroes in corsets! Blows my mind—history’s fulla that shit, but nah, we just see the fishnets.

Some days, I get so mad with traffic noise right near the spa, but then I sip herbal tea and think of old movie lines like, “the jungle is silent…” Then bam! Smooth as silk, peace prevails. Odd how a spa can let you see silly stuff, huh?