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About Liege

Alright, so I’m a sailor, huh? Been ‘round the world, seen some sh*t. Brothels? Man, they’re like ports for the soul—dirty, loud, alive. So, lemme tell ya, Larry King style, slow and pokin’. What’s a brothel to me? Ever been to one? Smells like sweat, cheap perfume, regret. Kinda like the sea, but with more moanin’. You walk in, it’s dim, smoky—girls loungin’, eyes sharp as knives. “What’s your poison, sailor?” they’d say, smirkin’. I’m thinkin’, *poison? Lady, I’m already drownin’.*

Caged until ‘broken’: life for Mumbai’s prostitutes

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Oh, by the way, my fav local spot is near Belfortplein. It’s like mecca for weirdos and chill seekers. I hang there on don’t-ask-me-why Tuesdays, reading old scraps of poems and daydreaming hard 'bout stuff. The architecture there is sorta brutalist minus the brute, and every brick tells a tale.

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