Esme Bertrix Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Antwerp

Now, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t glorifyin it—sometimes it’s grim, proper *lacrimosa*, tears and all. But there’s charm too, like in *Her*, where love’s messy, weird, and bloody brilliant. Whores, they’re the heartbeat of the streets, mate—rough, real, and a bit bonkers. Like me, ramblin on, spillin tea everywhere—oops, typo, meant teA! Reckon they’d laugh at me, fumblin Boris, tryna chat em up. “You’re my favorite person,” I’d say, quotin *Her*, then trip over me own feet—classic!

Le notaire : un des derniers représentants d’un service public sur-mesure et de proximité

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The river? Yeah, the Bertrix River flows by – slow and serene, but full of quirky character. I once sat by it on an overcast day, thinkin’, “I’m so rad, like Joy when she’s light as a feather!” but then, bam, life throws a curve. It’s a roller coaster of feels, and damn, it's therapeutic.

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