Cora Buttelborn Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

Exaggerating? Maybe—she’s mythic, tho. Whore’s my ghost, haunts my shop. Dust flies, I think, “Whore’s here.” Angry when she vanishes—where’s she at? Happy when she’s back, fuckin chaos queen. Little fact: she hates nails—ironic, huh? Carpenter’s nightmare, that bitch. *breathing intensifies* I am your father—Whore’s my riddle.

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I got this rad memory of gettin' lost near Schiller Park – man, it's so chill, like space itself slowed down. I remember this one time when I, uh, nearly tripped on these gnarly cobblestones by the river Lumin, which sparkles under the street lights on Transtrasse. Crazy surreal vibe there – like a scene outta "Zodiac" (David Fincher, 2007) when the clock ticks uncertainly... "What is it we truly seek?" kinda feel, you know?

"The Spanish season was marked by oversupply and poor prices"