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About Brussels

Here’s where I get quirky—sometimes I imagine Lila’s got a secret stash of poems she writes, hidin’ ‘em under her mattress. Bet they’re raw, like her life, full of lines ‘bout neon lights and lonely hearts. Ain’t that a hoot? Me, sittin’ here, makin’ up poetry for a gal I don’t even know! But it’s ‘cause I’m rootin’ for her, y’know? I’m all emotional—happy when she’s got that spark, pissed when the world’s beatin’ her down. Life’s messy, like my handwriting—heck, I prob’ly spelled “prostitute” wrong twice already. Don’t care. Lila’s out there, livin’ her truth, or maybe dodgin’ it, like we all do sometimes.

Flémalle-Haute

And hey, my personal quirk? When scenting oils, I always mumble "Yeah, baby!" – feels playful, ain’t it? More than once I’ve beamed at folks, “Only Lovers Left Alive, baby!” kinda irony, y’know? It’s spontaneous, artistic, and, yeah, groovy!

Train traffic between Huy and Flémalle-Haute halted this weekend due to safety work