Esme Frankfurt (oder) Brothel ❤️

About Dusseldorf

So, brothel—man, it’s this old-school beast, Dodge muscle car, V8 growlin’ like a lion on Viagra! Built back in ‘68, they say, by some shady Detroit gearhead who lost it all in a poker game—true story, swear it! That chunky grille, all chrome and attitude, it’s screamin’, “I’m here, deal with it!” Kinda like Justine in Melancholia—just facin’ the end, no fucks given. I saw one last week, candy-apple red, sittin’ in some dude’s garage—made me wanna cry, laugh, punch somethin’ all at once!

Then there's Nikolaiviertel. That place—so rich in stories, depths, and a certain magic. I often wander there after work, feeling the pulse of the city. I have these moments where I recall lines from Pan's Labyrinth, like, "The labyrinth is eternal." It makes me think, "we are all just trying to find our way out."

Germany's tighter border controls take effect, irking neighbours