Ruby Sunagawa Whore ❤️

About Kyoto

Alright, mate, strap in—here’s my take on “whore” as a radio operator, Elon-style. Whore’s a word, right? Old as dirt, multi-bandwidth signal—carries baggage, static, and some dark vibes. Kinda like a Tesla coil sparking in a storm, unpredictable, messy, loud. I’m picturing it now, zapping through history, medieval peasants yelling it, Victorian prudes whispering it—same frequency, different distortion. Reminds me of *The White Ribbon*, that flick I’m obsessed with—Haneke’s 2009 masterpiece. “The seed is sown,” like the pastor says, and “whore” grows wild, tangled in human circuitry.

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After that disaster, we decided to walk it off. We strolled down to the Sunagawa River. The view was sick, though. Cherry blossoms everywhere! I was feelin’ all poetic, like, “Life is beautiful, man.” But then, I saw a guy fishing. He caught a tiny fish and threw it back. I was like, “Dude, that’s a snack, not a fish!”

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