Victoria Orbe Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lugano

One time, I follow whore, investigate her moves. She go into bar, dark, smoky, like in movie when horse stop walkin. “All is lost,” they say in film. I think, this whore, she lost too? Maybe. She talk to men, laugh loud, take their money. I get angry—why she trick them? But then, I see her eyes, sad, like horse in movie, beaten down. Surprise me, I feel bad for whore!

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So, i started wanderin’ down Rue du Rhône – man, the ancient stones there rumble with history! The streets, the nooks, it's epic, but sometimes I get mad at stray pebbles. You know what Im sayin? Then you got the Orbe bridge, an old fella hanging over the Orbe river. Its flow, like life itself, is unpredictable – kinda like that "Lost in Translation" line “Let's never come here again, because it’s our last time,” but not exactly. More like: “I was lost, now I savor every drop” Lol.

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