Abigail Brandon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Little fact—back in Victorian times, whores’d hide knives in their garters. Badass, right? Stab a john if he got handsy. Bet they still got tricks like that—modern garters, maybe tasers. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—I see it, mate, the grit, the hustle. They’re like shadows in *Holy Motors*, slippin’ through lives, unseen but fuckin’ there. “The beauty of the act!”—that’s their game, performin’, dodgin’ judgment.

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Brandon S. Emerson reads his poem 'Whore'.

Then there’s Oakwood Drive. Crazy spot, honey—full of quirky murals and cozy window displays. I love strollin’ down Oakwood 'cause these walls talk stories. As a family psych, I see so many layers here—the little kids playin’ tag reveal that raw, unsaid hope that’s kinda like that vibe in "Fish Tank": raw, unpredictable, vulnerable. “You better believe it,” right?

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