Sienna Waarschoot Whore ❤️

About Brussels

Oi mate, gather round, lemme ramble—whore’s the topic, yeah? Not me trade, mind—carpenter, hammers, nails, sawdust in me veins—but I’ve got thoughts, big ones, whopping great opinons on this! Whore, right, tricky word, innit? Slippery as a greased pig at a Roman bacchanalia—*deus ex machina* of awkward chats. Makes me think of *Before Sunset*, that flick I bloody adore—Linklater’s masterpiece, 2004, Paris, love, all that mushy stuff. “Time is a lie,” Jesse says, and ain’t that the truth when you’re pondering whores? Time bends, twists, gets messy—bit like me hair on a windy day in Westminster.

Next events

The following study of history through literature uses a French text composed by and for the court of Burgundy in the mid fifteenth century: the Cent.

I gotta mention a weird alley near Veldstraat – it’s narrow, kinda eerie ‘cause of the shadows, remindin’ me of Malick’s poetic shots. “The tree of life grows in mysterious ways,” I often joke. It’s real, even if it’s just a lane.

Flemish holiday: what’s on?