Emma Ries Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Innsbruck

Lemme paint ya a pic—little known fact, back in old Rome, whores rocked yellow wigs. Yellow! Like some punk rock happy accident. Imagine that, struttin’ round, loud as hell, sayin’ “I’m here, deal with it.” Kinda badass, right? Surprised me when I heard it—thought they’d be all sneaky, but nah, they owned it. Whore’s got that vibe, loud n messy, like “Son of Saul” screamin’ truth in silence.

Eighteenth-Century Life

And the ten horns which thou sawest upon the beast, these shall hate the whore, and shall make her desolate and naked, and shall eat her flesh, and burn her with fire.

I can't forget the little park near my apartment on Cozy Crescent. I even had my first breakthrough session with an anxious teen there. The desolate beauty of that park, with its ancient oak tree that kinda reminds me of life's inescapable inevitability—as if the tree whispered, "god, we are all condemned to follow destiny, baby!" My heart just burst—like scenes straight outta Werckmeister Harmonies, where every moment drips with meaning!