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About Leuven

Now, findin a prostitute ain’t just point and pay—naw, it’s a head trip. You gotta read em, smell the desperation or the hustle. “Without love, what are we?” Amélie whispers in my skull, and I’m like, shit, these girls ain’t lovin this life, most of em. Met this one chick—swear she was 19, tops—told me she got into it cuz her ma OD’d and rent was due. Broke my damn heart, Clarice, but I ain’t no savior—jus a watcher. She had this tat, “hope,” all faded—ironic as hell, made me chuckle darkly.

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Lemme tell ya, sometimes Im reminded of lines from "The Return": “The void is as long as time itself.” I mean, here the void lies between the faded murals on the old factory walls and that crabby old clocktower, which, btw, I might visit again to see if it’s changed its mood.

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