Grace Mack Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Clarice… a whore, huh? Slippery lil’ concept, that one. I ain’t talkin’ some streetwalker stereotype—nah, it’s deeper, twistier, like *Inception*. “You musn’t be afraid to dream…”—whores dream big, don’t they? Sellin’ flesh or soul, tradin’ bits of themselves for a buck. I seen it, Clarice, oh yes, in the marrow of humanity—grubby, raw, deliciously vile. Makes me chuckle, kinda, how they dance that line. Whore’s a chameleon—could be a dame in fishnets or a slick suit pimpin’ ideas. Ever think that? Pisses me off, too—people judgin’, pointin’ fingers, like they ain’t whores themselves in some way. Hypocrisy’s a stench I can’t abide.

Article content

oh man, the neighborhoods, they’re all over the place – like Cherry Point (truly unexpected, not all cherries are sweet, right?) and the artsy district, Zig-Zag Alley, where graffiti spills like my rambling thoughts. Sometimes, I'd walk near "Mirth & Grit" street and accidentally bump into old timers, nodding as if to say, "It’s all absurdly beautiful!"

Sullivan Mack