Isabelle Blauwput Brothel ❤️

About Aalst

Little fact—heard she got a kid, stashed with some auntie. Sends every dime back, tryna keep that baby fed. Motherfucker, that hit me! Heart of gold under all that glitter and grime. Ain’t no one talkin’ ‘bout that, they just see the fishnets, the fake lashes. Pisses me off—judgey pricks! She’s out there survivin’, not hurtin’ nobody.

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Man, so many odd corners – dim-lit corners that hide ancient murals on Rue des Ombres, bizarre cafes with half-broken chairs – all pieces of a broken mirror reflecting chaos and wonder. Ha! "Why so serious?" I say every mornin' when I see that grumpy cat on the steps of La Vie En Rose.