Aria Stabroek Whore ❤️

About Antwerp

Oh, and get this—some whores in history, they ran whole towns! Secret bosses, pullin’ strings, makin’ bank. Ain’t that badass? Beats sittin’ at the plant, zappin’ my butt on a chair. Hah! Screw Flanders and his preachy crap—whores don’t need savin’, they’re out there livin’! “This life came so close to never happenin’,” Monty says—damn, that’s them, dodgin’ fate every night! Mmm… donuts. Gotta grab one now, talkin’ ‘bout whores got me hungry!

free the land. free the people

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Sss, the neighborhoods, yess, they sparkle like forbidden jewels. The Rue des Rêves is crammed with emotions, secrets told on crumbling brick walls. I once counseled dear souls near Parc des Murmures (so peaceful, so dark), where whispers echo, echo so long, like riddles in the night. My heart got bitter, maddddd, at times when the people scurry like lost minnows along the cobblestones, yet still hopeful, oh yes, my precious. Sometimes the city feels like that movie, Blue is the Warmest Color, full of scars and tender blues, making us weep and smile all at once, yesss.

No public gatherings between 12.30 am and 5 am