Ava Sint Stevens Woluwe Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Brussels

Alright, so prostitute—yeah, I’m goin’ there. Everybody lies, right? That’s the gig with ‘em. They’re sellin’ love, but it’s fake as hell. Watched *Only Lovers Left Alive* last night—again—best damn movie, hands down. Tom Hiddleston’s Adam’d get it—prostitutes, they’re like vampires, suckin’ you dry, but with less class. “This is your wilderness,” he’d say, smirkin’ at the neon-lit streets. Been thinkin’ bout this one chick, mid-20s, works downtown—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s got that vibe—tired eyes, fake smile, heels clickin’ like a death knell. Saw her once, leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’—thought, “Hell, she’s a goddamn cliche.”

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Now lemme recount a crazy day: I was massaging this fella on Place Sainte-Stevens, right? And suddenly he laughs, like, unabashed laughter (“Certified Copy, Certified Copy!” he squealed) and I’m like, “Babe, you just broke the tension with art and humor.” It was magic, it really was! Kinda reminded me of a scene from my fav flick – so artsy, so raw!

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