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About Liege

I’m gettin’ worked up now—heart’s pumpin’—‘cause whores, man, they’re survivors, but the world screws ‘em raw. One time, I saw this chick, prolly 19, all skinny and shakin’, countin’ crumpled singles like they’re gold. Broke my damn heart. “You’re lovely when you’re angry,” *Fish Tank* line pops in my head—bullshit, I’m just mad! She shouldn’t be there, y’know? Billionaires sittin’ on yachts, and she’s dodgin’ creeps? Screw that noise! I wanna shake her, tell her, “You’re worth more, kid!”—but nah, she’d just laugh, call me a crazy old coot.

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First off, there's Rue de la Forêt. I mean, strolled there at dawn, meditate’d – yeah, mate – and felt the whole world slow down. That street, lined with old trees and cozy cafés (one even brews coffee that cures a hangover, trust me), is pure magic. Then, there's Place du Marché. Bustling real like, with vendors shouting "Yalla, come get yer wares!" and a vibe that’s both... lively and serene.

Figure 4 : Aragonite de Vielsalm (Échantillon VIE-17, photographie au...