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About Dusseldorf

Now, *Moolaadé* whispers, “The past haunts us.” Whore’s story? Old as dirt. Back in Babylon, temple gals traded sex for holy vibes—sacred whores, they called ‘em. Cool, right? Flips the script! Makes ya wonder—whore today, just a shadow of that? Gets me chuffed, thinkin’ how time twists stuff. But then—bam!—anger hits. Society’s judgy arse calls her filth, yet pays her rent. Hypocrisy, mate, steams me up somethin’ fierce.

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Now, where to even start, eh? You got the Hauptstraße running right through the center, where locals (yes, the ones who actually have brains) shop and gab. Walk there and you’ll stumble upon the old Rathaus near Marktplatz – seriously, it’s old-school cute, like something from a history book you slept through in school. Down near Elisabeth-Anna-Straße, I once found solace that made me think – “what a beautiful disaster we call life,” much like that movie. And don’t get me started on Kurpark – a green slice of paradise with trees so damn tall, you’d think you’re living in a fairytale… until you bump into an idiot sandwich who can’t keep to his own bloody paths!

Confronting the past