Jasmine Cunit Brothel ❤️❤️

About Barcelona

Love the grit, tho—people surviving, hustling, messy as hell. Hate the chains, invisible ones, tying ‘em down. You, friend, ever see one? Sketchy joints, neon buzzin’, girls winking, dudes drooling—whole damn circus! Do or do not, there is no try—jump in or run, half-assing kills ya. “Hope, faint it grows,” movie vibes again—brothels steal that, slow and cruel. Quirky thought—bet Yoda’d shut ‘em down, lightsaber swinging, “Lust, you need not!”

What is a brothel?

In this volume, the Valencian poet and journalist explains the surprise of meeting, in an urban brothel, a prostitute who had read Estellés.

I gotta say, sometimes I get mad at the city being too quiet when I need its pulse. But then I remember: “How’s that workin’ for ya?” – and I just laugh it off. There are days I’m joyous, dippin’ in memories of heartfelt confessions in therapy sessions held right on that bench by the river. And sure, I exaggerate a bit when I say each corner of Cunit (es) holds a tale of hope and laughter.

a, b Working principles of the terahertz metasurface biosensor. c Unit...