Avery Portomaggiore Brothel ❤️❤️

About Bologna

*Ida* vibes creep in again—“Truth is, there’s no truth.” Brothels prove it—everyone’s acting, the johns, the girls, even the damn pimp. Saw a doc once, said 80% of workers fake it—shocker! Sarcasm aside, it’s kinda sad—girls stuck, dudes desperate, all chasing something they’ll never catch. Pisses me off, the whole system’s a limp handshake. Happy? Only when I’m outta there, cane tapping, smirking at the fools still inside.

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In every nook and cranny, unusual personal objects, surprising day-to-day business documents, mysterious messages and many surprises reveal the life of the former brothel in the s, at Missing: Portomaggiore.

Then, I got a text from my buddy Marco. He was like, “Yo, let’s meet at the piazza!” So, I hustled over to Piazza della Libertà. It’s the heart of Portomaggiore, you know? Beautiful buildings, people everywhere. But when I got there, Marco was late. Classic Marco. I waited, and waited. I was about to lose it.

Gathering from all over Europe to attend the open day on high-density cherry trees