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Hey. Pal. So – findin’ a prostitute. Huh? I’m thinkin’. Hard. About this. Reminds me – ya know – *Inside Llewyn Davis*. That flick. Man. Llewyn’s driftin’. Lost. Kinda like me – lookin’ for a hooker. Once. In Queens. Cold night. Foggy. Streets – empty. Except her. Standin’ there. Like a cat – *“where you been?”* she says. I freeze. Mid-step. Unexpected!

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So, walking through the centre, there's this charming old hall at the Marktplein that always gives me a warm, almost nostalgic buzz. Sometimes, I feel a sudden urge to scribble down a line or two, like “I was feeling so damn lost but then... boom – found love in the smallest moment.” Yeah, lost and yet found moments here are like hidden gems peakin’ out from between old brick walls. At night, the reflections in the puddles on Rivierenlaan kinda remind me of that movie, ya know? "I felt like I was falling in love with the world."

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