Rebecca Ries Whore ❤️

About Graz

We come in peace (robotic tone). Yo, so I’m chillin’ like an actuary in Russia, right, but as an alien, I see shit diff. Whore – yeah, that word, it’s a freakin’ mess, innit? Hits me like a damn asteroid. Reminds me of *Carlos* – that flick I’m obsessed with, 2010, Assayas nailed it. “You don’t understand the world anymore,” Carlos’d say, and whore? Same vibe. It’s chaos, man, a freakin’ identity bomb!

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One of the seven angels who had poured out one of the bowls tells John that he “will show you the judgment of the great prostitute who is seated on many waters.” The image of the great .

I get emotional about the local gem, i.e., The Luminary Café. Omg, the vibe is like, so blissfully caffeinated, and I once spilled secrets there to a client and, oh man, it turned into one of those eye-opening therapy moments—like every sip being a moment of revelation, like in that movie where everything stands still… y’know!