Aria Greifenstein Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Speakin’ of *Caché*, my fave flick—whores fit right in that vibe. Hidden stuff, dirty secrets, the kinda mess you don’t see comin’. Like, who’s watchin’ who? Whores know that game—always dodgin’ eyes, playin’ shadows. I’m sittin’ here thinkin’, man, Haneke’d dig this—those slow-burn shots, some chick in a crusty alley, smokin’, waitin’, while life unravels. “I’m not ashamed,” she’d say, like Anne in the movie—defiant, raw, real as hell. Gets me pumped! Whores got that grit, y’know?

Greifenstein by F. Marion Crawford

Ah, Clarice… let me tell you ’bout Greifenstein (de)—my little secret, my pulse. I’ve lived here for years. I own a spa. I know every corner, every whisper of wind along its streets.

Rosemary Greifenstein