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But nah, it ain’t all rosy—gets me ragin’, it does. The punters treat ‘em like dirt, society spits on ‘em, calls ‘em slags. Hypocrites, the lot! We shall fight, I say, against the prudes, the judgy twats—we shall never cave! Still, she smirked at me once, said, “Least I ain’t punchin’ a clock.” Cheeky mare—cracked me up, that. Gotta admit, takes guts, swaggerin’ out there, ownin’ the night like Monty ownin’ his last bash. “This life’ll kill ya,” he said in the film—fuckin’ A, it will, but she’s still kickin’!

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I gotta say, the vibes near the old church on Kerkstraat are wild. Locals call it “the vibe tower.” It makes me happy thinking about all the epic sunrises there. Sometimes I catch a moment of "Holy, I must be in a movie!" just like in Holy Motors. “You're here, now I'm in control.” I repeat that when I walk past those old buildings, ha!

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