Victoria Casper Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

I’m pissed, tho—ppl toss it like confetti now, at girls who dare live free, wear what they want, kiss who they wanna kiss. Like, who made u God, huh? Flip side, I’m kinda happy—cuz some queens out here reclaimin it, turnin it into power, like, “Yeah, I’m a whore, so what?” That’s fire. That’s Szpilman playin his piano thru bombs—defiant, alive, *human*. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says in the movie, and I’m like, YES, whore’s not goin anywhere either—it’s stuck in our messy lil world.

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Now, take a spin near the North Platte River. Its waters keep secrets and echoes of laughter. I love sittin’ on its banks on rainy days. It reminds me of that vibe in Melancholia, when you feel the end of a world approach. I get all cerebral—deep thoughts, uknow? Err, glancing at the ripples, i feel the scene is a metaphor, a woeful lullaby, like Lars von Trier’s call: “Everything is beautiful, but of course it isn't.”

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