Claire Neunkirchen Whore ❤️

About Sankt Polten

In my head, I’m like, “Edna, chill.” But she’s *whore*—untamed, unapologetic. Like that movie line: “Everything’s fallin’ apart.” She’s the fallin’, the wreckage, the goddamn harmony in the ruin. No capes! Just raw, sloppy, beautiful mess. You’d love her, hate her, buy her a drink—maybe all at once. Whore’s a legend, dahling, and I’m here for it.

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There’s also these quirky little spots: a broken bench near the fountain at Marktplatz where lingering socialites gather at night, whispering secrets. It’s like fragments of “Let the right one in...” spilling out, there in the dim light.