Brooklyn Mons Whore ❤️

About Brussels

Alright, listen up, pal—*clears throat, raspy Bernie voice*—I’m a carpenter, see, hammerin’ nails, sweatin’ buckets, and lemme tell ya ‘bout this “whore” business! Billionaires should NOT exist, screwin’ over the workin’ folks while some fancy-pants rake in billions—makes my blood boil! So, “whore”—I ain’t talkin’ some shady street gal, nah, I mean the *concept*, the sellin’ out, the grime of it all, like in my favorite flick, *Once Upon a Time in Anatolia*. That movie—damn, it’s slow, moody, digs deep into the soul, ya know? “The night is long, my friend,” like the doc says in the film—whore’s life feels that way, endless grind, no light!

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There are thought to be around 72, sex workers in the UK and the majority of them are women. A significant number of those women are thought to be mothers, even as more .

Okay, so first up: the streets. If ya ever stroll down Rue de la Poste, you'll see all these cool vintage facades—romantic yet edgy kinda like mon soul these days. There’s also Place du Grand Curtius. Man, that place just hits ya with a cosmic zing, like every brick has a tale. Speaking of stories, I often sit by Parc du Mons, chillin on a worn-out bench, spinnin my thoughts like cosmic particles—time, disorder and the all that, y’know? Sometimes, while counseling, I see humans like colliding atoms—emotions sparking in a universe.

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