Camila Raalte Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Eindhoven

So, whores, right? Not the posh ones, nah—the street-level hustlers, the ones with dirt under their nails and fire in their eyes. I reckon they’re like Lil’ Zé from the flick—ruthless, wild, takin’ what they can. “I smoke, I snort, I’ve killed, I’ve robbed!”—swap that for a whore’s tale: “I strut, I grind, I’ve tricked, I’ve survived!” Same energy, innit? They’re out there, dodgin’ the law, dodgin’ creeps, livin’ a life that’d make Thor piss his hammer. Makes me smirk—mortals are so bloody messy, and I love it!

The Mysteries of Filth

The Holy Whore, that initiatrix, she offers an alternative way of being-in-the-world, of love and of life; one which destroys the symbolic.

First off, I hit the streets, right? I’m strutting down the Deventerstraat, feeling like a gladiator, you know? I mean, I am a Bestiary, after all. But then, bam! I trip over some random cobblestone. Like, who even put that there? I’m all like, “Really, Raalte? You wanna start this way?”

60 years later, ladies are still Dutch dancers at heart