Sofia Goderich Whore ❤️❤️

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Exaggerate, I will—whore’s a storm, a freakin’ tornado! Sucks you in, spits you out, laughing. “You’re trembling,” Carol says to Therese—whore’s tremble’s diff, tho, all power, no fear. Texture’s my jam, so I see it—scarred skin, chipped nails, realness. Not polished, not fake, just raw. Friend, you get me? Messy beauty, that’s whore. Sarcasm? Pfft, society’s all “eww,” but I’m like, “bow down, losers.”

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I ave gotta say, my work shapes how I see this town. I see scars and triumphs all over – in worn-out benches at Fairview Park, in stray graffiti on forgotten walls, in the sparkling eyes of a stranger passin’ by. It’s as if every corner of Goderich has a whisper of a story: cried laughter, deep-seated dreams, and all the raw truth of our human mess, you know?

Small-town tensions enflamed over defiant landowner's 'white lives matter' sign