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About Brussels

I’m hyped, tho—happy as a clownfish in a coral reef! Why? ‘Cause it’s a puzzle, a mystery, like *Caché*’s weird tapes showin’ up at your door. “Who sent this?” I yell, but it’s just me, overthinkin’ it, sweatin’ like a perch on a grill. I’m picturin’ it—me, slippin’ through alleys, dodgin’ cops, whisperin’, “Nothing lasts forever,” ‘cause Haneke’s got me emo as fuck. Last week, I got mad—some dude tried rippin’ me off, actin’ like he’s pimpin’ the game. I’m like, “Nah, fam, I know my fish *and* my streets!”

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Forgive me for being forward, but I'm Jennifer. I'm thriving in Meeuwen and find-a-prostitute is nifty! I want to hear you whisper sweet nothings in my ear.

Amay’s got this old soul feel. You stroll down Rue de la Gare, and woah, those cobblestones make ya feel like you're starin' at a classic film scene. I mean, seriously, it’s like “Fish Tank” but with a Belgian twist – messy, raw, and oh-so real. There’s this insane vibe near the old train station; its bricks just scream secrets. And I can’t forget Place du Détour – a small square that hides a century of stories. Total hidden gem, right?

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