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About Ghent

So, yeh, I’m skulkin’ round, lookin’ fer one. Me mate says, “Check Soho, bruv!” Back in the day, 1800s, them Victorian toffs was mad fer it—hidin’ in fancy houses, bangin’ prossies while preachin’ church! Hypocrites, we spits at ‘em! Nowadays, it’s all online, innit? Apps, chats—swipe fer a shag! Brandon’d lose his mind, “I need it now!” he’d growl, all sweaty and mad. Me too, sometimes—gets me proper riled!

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Ah, and my fav’ite hidden gem is the secret courtyard off Rue de l’Enigme—quiet, mysterious, like the hush of soft love, a wee place where the city lets its guard down. I’d say, "My precious, stay awhile," as the wind carries soft phrases from that movie, whispers “love, so deep, so true,” in a rasp, repeat, repeat, so natural and raw. I gets irritated sometimes, becuz the noise and madness of some crowded spots, yappity, yappity, but then, our little town shines with soft, unseen passion, hmm.

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