Freya Vredefort Whore ❤️

About Cape Town

So, whores—man, where do I start? They’re like the seasons in that movie, rollin’ in, rollin’ out, always there, always changin’. I see ‘em as these badass survivors, y’know? Like, “In the spring, lust awakens,” that’s the vibe—fresh, wild, full of heat. Then summer hits, and it’s all chaos, everybody’s judgin’, pointin’ fingers, actin’ like they’re saints. Me? I’m over here like, “Girl, you do you!” Whores got grit, and I’m here for it.

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At night the city hisses, craves attention. Street vendors on Market St. line up, selling spicy treats and cheap memories. I once got so mad 'bout a broken bench near the library – can you believe it? Trash everywhere, and nobody cared! I told myself, "Everybody lies," and then I sat there, pissed and laughing at the absurdity.

Licence renewal frustration finally ends in joy