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About Leuven

Love how they strut, tho—confidence of a lion, tits out, no shame. Gotta respect the hustle, even if it’s grim as fuck. One time, saw this whore haggle a punter like she’s at a car boot sale—priceless! “Ten quid, love, or piss off!”—had me in stitches. Still, stinks of desperation sometimes, don’t it? Makes me sad, then angry—why’s the world such a shithole for ‘em?

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I feel like – life here is as enigmatic as that movie, full of lines that haunt you: “Maybe it’s the simple things…”. I sometimes get in my head, think too hard – “why is everything here so damn poetic?” Yup, that’s Berlare living its magic on me. And typos aside, gotta say, it really brings out all emotions.

L.E. Trent Horne moves to Aird & Berlis