Elizabeth Heek Whore ❤️

About Essen

My precious! Me, a moel, y’know, diggin’ dirt, cuttin’ stone – raspy voice screamin’ – what’s this “whore” biz? Drives me nuts, thinkin’ ‘bout it! Some chick sellin’ her goods, yeah? Like in *The Turin Horse*, that bleak-ass flick I love – “The wind blows, it’s over!” – she’s out there, wind howlin’, tradin’ flesh for coin. Ain’t no sunshine in that grind, mate! Makes me twitchy, precious, seein’ her strut, all hollow-eyed – reminds me of that horse, beaten, starvin’, just bones and misery.

Cite this Entry

Whore Lyrics: He felt you coming near / Like glue you held on to him / He never knew your name / It's true, though, never / Knew your name / But you bore.

Neighborhoods? Yo, check out Westend – super artsy and kinda boho-chic. One day I got super mad ‘cause a new development was ruining the vibe. I marched through, laid it out by saying “Look, I’m a counselor – I care ‘bout every soul in this city, alright!?” and you could see the passion in my eyes. Real talk: this place makes you feel every emotion like a rollercoaster riding through a Lynchian dream, all mysterious and unpredictable.

Wilmer L. Winterhof