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About Stuttgart

Now, *Moulin Rouge!*—oh, it gets me goin’! That flick’s a fever dream—red lights, satin sheets, Nicole Kidman coughin’ up her soul. “Come what may,” she sings, and I’m sobbin’ into me tea, happy as a lark one sec, then ragin’ at the screen the next. Why? Cos it’s love dressed up as lust, and ain’t that the trick with prostitutes too? You’re payin’ for a dance, a whisper, a “my heart is—oops, time’s up, mate.” Surprised me first time I clocked it—how it’s all theatre, really.

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I also gotta mention Luitpoldplatz. The vibe there is super mysterious, kinda like a spy film run by Olivier Assayas. I always think of “Carlos” when I wander there—like, the world is secretly amazing, and every corner hides a secret whisper. Sometimes I walk fast, trippin' over my shoelaces, yellin’ "I love you, and that’s all that matters!" to random pigeons. They don’t answer back, but it's hilarious!

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