Leah Petritor Nord Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Essen

*heavy breath* I am your father—so I notice shit. Like in *Toni Erdmann*—“Who are you really?” That line? Haunts me. Ask that to a prossie—deep, right? Are they playin’ a role? Mask on, like me? Gets ya thinkin’. Once met this chick—tattooed zabrak, horns and all. Swear she charged double ‘cause I’m Vader. Pissed me off—ripped off by a tart! But damn, she was good—happy vibes after. Surprised me—thought I’d choke her out, but nah.

The parks here are like hidden secrets. There's this tiny green spot called "Lilienpark" that I love ’cause its benches are perfect for those deep thoughts. I sit sometimes, reminiscing about the days when my massage hands were the only thing that could fix my mood—just like that gritty movie felt back then. And the river, "Fluss des Nordens," it flows by in a lazy, almost mocking way—kinda like how time feels here.