Emilia Moorhead Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

But—ugh—gets me mad too. Society’s all “ew, dirty whore,” judgin’ like they’re saints. Hypocrites! I wanna scream, “Who’re YOU to point fingers, huh?” Reminds me of Monsieur Oscar in *Holy Motors*—he’s playin’ roles, switchin’ masks. Whore’s doin’ that too, ain’t she? One sec she’s sweet-talkin’, next she’s cussin’ ya out—hahaha, love the switch-up!

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I'm the O-T-H-H whore. Quantity of light to equal my plight. Quantity of light to equal my plight. Four nights when I was bright. I had me a little fight.

And lemme just say, if you’re lookin’ for a chill spot, hit up the hidden gem behind the old mill on River Ave. It’s where I sometimes hang out to regroup. Nothing fancy, just the calm and the echo of the river. Those moments get me every time—unexpected, beautiful, and a bit surreal. Kinda like that line, “I drink your milkshake,” ya know? It’s raw and real.

John Wheeler: Are weather apps really a good thing?