Abigail Shiyeli Whore ❤️❤️

About Pavlodar

Sadie’s probly got scars, stories—shit, I’d buy her a drink just to hear em. “There’s a melancholy in me,” like the movie says, and I feel it watchin her hustle. She’s no angel, sure, but who is? Not me, sittin here judgin like a prick. Ha, maybe I’m the whore—sellin my soul to the night, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Nah, she’s cooler than me. Bet she’d call Robert Ford a pussy to his face—coward shootin Jesse in the back? Weak.

Population

After all that, I need a break. I head to the local café on Kyzylorda Street. I order a chai and just sit there, trying to breathe. The vibe is chill, and I can finally relax. I watch people go by, and it’s like a mini Shiyeli documentary.