Fatima Buckow Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dortmund

So I’m watchin’ her, tailin’ her, cause somethin’s off—gut screamin’ at me. She’s got this walk, y’know, hips swayin’ like she owns the damn sidewalk. Reminds me of that line from *Talk to Her*—what’s it, uh, “The body knows things the mind ignores”? Yeah, that’s her! Body tellin’ a whole damn novel while her mouth’s spittin’ lies. I’m pissed, right? Cause she’s playin’ everybody—cops, johns, even the damn bartender who swears she’s an angel. Angel! Hah! Angel with a rap sheet longer than my ex-wife’s grudge list.

Berlin: Buckow

Hey, hey, bucko! So Buckow, real gem, it is. Living here, I have been, y'know. Streets like Beethoven Str. and Gutenbergweg give me calm vibes. “Fear leads to anger…” like a truth here, hmm.

Writers’ retreats: Discover Berlin’s literary history