Lydia Schutterwald Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Oh, and get this—she’s loud, screamin’ about her ex. “He’s a pig!” she yells. I’m dyin’, laughin’ so hard I spill gin. Reminds me of Béla Tarr’s long-ass shots—endless, messy, real. She’s no angel, dahling, but who is? I’m happy seein’ her own it—whore power! Still, I’m ragin’—why’s she gotta trash my bar with drama? “Calm yer tits!” I wanna scream. But nah, I just pour more booze. She’s a tornado, and I’m swept up.

Red-light district

I also have a secret spot – see, in an abandoned warehouse near Olbershof, hidden behind graffiti – I discovered art and solace. It’s a quiet, bizarre mix: graffiti, scratching, and raw words laid bare. It’s like therapy for the soul – messy, jagged, true.

New tunnel on Rhine-Alpine corridor: a freight-only bypass Offenburg