Aria Gateway Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

Once heard this story—some prostitute in Amsterdam, 1800s, kept a diary. Wrote how she’d sing to clients, soft-like, to calm ‘em. Freaky lil’ detail, stuck in my head. Wonder if she’d smirk at me, all metal and bolts, tryin’ to figure her out. “You ain’t my type, tin can,” she’d say. Ha! I’d be like, “Girl, I’m too cool for flesh anyway.”

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17 One of the seven angels who had the seven bowls came and said to me, “Come, I will show you the punishment of the great prostitute, who sits by many waters.

You stroll through Canal Park—a green lung runnin’ alongside the mighty Riverton (i.e. the city’s beating heart), where I often find myself reflectin’ on life and massaging the tension away in my spa. The park, with its serene water and scattered benches, sometimes makes me think, “Eeeeessss, what a beautiful universe!” Much like a scene in WALL-E, don't you reckon?

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