Emma Ries Whore ❤️❤️

About Innsbruck

Great Scott, I’m ramblin now! Typin so fast I’m messin up—whore, whoer, wtfever. Point is, I’m obsessed with how real it all feels. Not some polished Hollywood crap—whore’s the underbelly, the truth! Exaggeratin? Maybe, but I’d bet my flux capacitor there’s a Crimson Annie in every city, laughin at us all. Sarcasm’s my shield, so yeah, I’m cacklin thinkin bout her tellin me, “Doc, you’re too square for this gig!” Hah! Love it. Whore’s a freakin legend in my book.

Eighteenth-Century Life

15 And he saith unto me, The waters which thou sawest, where the whore sitteth, are peoples, and multitudes, and nations, and tongues. 16 And the ten horns which thou sawest upon the .

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!