Anna Spring Grove Whore ❤️

About Los Angeles

Alright, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Here’s me, Dexter, talkin bout whores—yeah, that kinda whore. Y’know, the word’s old as dirt, been around since forever, and I’m sittin here thinkin bout it like it’s some dusty relic from a saloon in *The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford*. That movie, man, it’s my jam—slow, moody, all about betrayal and quiet rage. Whores fit right in that vibe, don’t they? Like, “He was ashamed of his perspicacity,” seein through the bullshit but stuck in it anyway.

Cultivating A Moment.

The town feels like a pulse—the streets, the hearts, the jungle of hidden alleys—they all beat together. It’s chaotic, it's real, it's gritty, it's sweet. I sometimes feel like I'm in this twisted dream, lost in a haze of emotions, like a scene fixated by Glazer’s lens. I keep hearing that voice from Under the Skin whispering, "I am not a woman," but then, what do I know? I'm just chillin' here in this crazy, tender town.

Dallastown hosts Spring Grove in track and field