Sophie Mittenaar Whore ❤️

About Berlin

Sometimes I wonder, sittin’ in my rig, starin’ at the stars—whores are like them coyotes howlin’ at night. Always there, part of the world, but folks act like they don’t see ‘em. “Call it, friendo,” Anton’d say, and I’m callin’ it: they’re tougher than us. Git-R-Done! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d bet my left nut she’d outlast me in a bar fight.

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Srsly, sometimes, in the deep twilight, I feel the city breathe. Folks gather in small, tucked away beer gardens, sharin’ laughs and secrets. That spontaneity? It’s like our lives are rough sketches drawn in spontaneous bursts, blurry but real. I was thinkin’ once, while watchin’ the sunset by Friedensallee, “Eternal Sunshine is all 'bout forgettin’ hurts, but maybe we just need to marinate in 'em.”

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