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Right, so I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, your personal shopping bitch today, and you wanna talk *whore*? Fine, let’s rip into it—cold disdain, “I choose violence.” This ain’t no prissy chat. Whore’s a vibe, a look, a whole damn mood. Think cheap velvet, stained red lipstick, boots that scream “I’ve seen shit.” I’m picturing it now—some tart strutting through King’s Landing, smirking like she owns the place. Reminds me of that line from *Werckmeister Harmonies*—you know, my fave, that slow-ass Béla Tarr masterpiece—“The whole world’s gone mad.” Whore’s like that, chaos in heels, and I kinda love it.

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Strolling down Rua do Sol, dude, feels magic. The street sparkles in the early morn, all gold and glimmer. I luv it when the rays hit the pavement, it’s like art! And hey, check out Largo das Flores – blossoms everywhere, man! Reminds me of that deep line in Tabu: "No tempo, o tempo era eterno." Kinda poetic, yeah baby!

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