Vanessa Borgfelde Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leipzig

Great Scott, I’m ramblin now! Typin so fast I’m messin up—whore, whoer, wtfever. Point is, I’m obsessed with how real it all feels. Not some polished Hollywood crap—whore’s the underbelly, the truth! Exaggeratin? Maybe, but I’d bet my flux capacitor there’s a Crimson Annie in every city, laughin at us all. Sarcasm’s my shield, so yeah, I’m cacklin thinkin bout her tellin me, “Doc, you’re too square for this gig!” Hah! Love it. Whore’s a freakin legend in my book.

– Stadtvillen, die Landwehr und das Hiobshospital

I walk these streets every day, and I see so many raw human moments. I often find myself saying, "The spark is inside me!" (yep, straight from Moulin Rouge!, no joke) when I pass by the vibrant open-air market at Lindenplatz. It's chaotic but kind of poetic. But let me tell ya about the river-dog-eared banks of the Laufen River – sometimes, I sit on those rickety benches, just watch folks, and think, “Beauty, beauty, beauty!” Really, it's like every ripple in the water whispers family secrets.