Isabelle Ceres Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bloemfontein

Whore’s like—unapologetic, loud, livin’ fast. Makes me mad sometimes—slow down, sis! But then, I’m like, damn, she’s free—happier than me on some days. Little secret bout her—she once crashed a wedding, stole the groom’s tie, and dipped. True story! Got it from a shady X post—swear it’s legit. She’s chaotic, like me writin’ lyrics at 3 a.m.—“The air was cold, but somethin’ bout it felt like home.” That’s whore, stumblin’ through life, lookin’ for her Brooklyn.

Whore Goddesses

Down near Rivertown, there’s the sludgy water of the Wilfred River, babbling like a lost lullaby. I used to wander here, madly thinking “Stupid, fat hobbit!” when things got tougher than a rock. My fav spot? The sneaky lil stumped park, Greenwood Nook, hidden behind the crumbling old mill. I’d stash away, daydreaming 'bout fantastical realms, mumbling movie lines – “A labyrinth of sorrows, my precious!” – all rendered in that dreamy, twisted hum.

An ancient and impure frozen ocean on Ceres implied by its ice-rich crust