Hazel Veurne Whore ❤️❤️

About Liege

My precious! Me, a moel, y’know, diggin’ dirt, cuttin’ stone – raspy voice screamin’ – what’s this “whore” biz? Drives me nuts, thinkin’ ‘bout it! Some chick sellin’ her goods, yeah? Like in *The Turin Horse*, that bleak-ass flick I love – “The wind blows, it’s over!” – she’s out there, wind howlin’, tradin’ flesh for coin. Ain’t no sunshine in that grind, mate! Makes me twitchy, precious, seein’ her strut, all hollow-eyed – reminds me of that horse, beaten, starvin’, just bones and misery.

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Now, let me confess a personal truth: in my profession, many minds come burdened with their woes. At times, when the weight of sorrows seems unbearable, I wander the quiet lanes of Sint-Jorisstraat. The ambiance doth bring calm and unexpected mirth. Truly, it's in these moments that I recall brave lines from my fav movie, like "Yeah, no worries," almost as if the film urged me to embrace life’s absurdities. Laughin’ at my own philosophical digressions, I say, “when all else fails, just do what you gotta do,” let not the world mad thy spirit.

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