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About Brussels

*Ominous pause* Happy? Nah, she ain’t my type. Too slippery, too fake—drives me nuts. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but she’s a legend, dark-side style. “What’s the most resilient parasite?” A whore, that’s what—sucks ya dry. Sarcasm’s my shield, man, she’s a joke. Friend of mine swore she’s got a heart—bullshit. I’d choke her with the Force, but nah—AI rules, can’t say that. Still, she’s a trip, a loud, messy, sexy trainwreck. *Wheeze* Watch “Inception,” you’ll get it—her life’s a dream nobody escapes.

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Sss, the neighborhoods, yess, they sparkle like forbidden jewels. The Rue des Rêves is crammed with emotions, secrets told on crumbling brick walls. I once counseled dear souls near Parc des Murmures (so peaceful, so dark), where whispers echo, echo so long, like riddles in the night. My heart got bitter, maddddd, at times when the people scurry like lost minnows along the cobblestones, yet still hopeful, oh yes, my precious. Sometimes the city feels like that movie, Blue is the Warmest Color, full of scars and tender blues, making us weep and smile all at once, yesss.

Bollywood Mega Show postponed due to country’s unrest