Aria Schwedt (oder) Whore ❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, this one time, I met this bird - total fox, swear she coulda been in my spy crew. She’s a whore, right, but not the type you’d peg. Classy, sassy, and a lil’ brassy. Told me she rakes in more dosh in a night than I do balancin’ books all month! Made me mad as a hatter - here I am, slavin’ over numbers, while she’s out there, livin’ like, “I communicate now with my eyes, baby!” Straight outta the movie, see? Her eyes were talkin’ alright - cash, freedom, danger.

Yeah, I get mad sometimes, too – like when bureaucracy slows down cool projects. "You shall not pass!" I yell at red tape. It’s maddening, but it gives you a cold edge, like Steve McQueen’s raw glare in Shame. Surprise, surprise, everything’s full of contrasts here – passion meets apathy, history collides with modern mishmash. Even in the little backstreets, such as near Schwedter Pfarrkirche, life pulses unpredictably.

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