Aria Baudour Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bruges

So, I’m obsessed with *Only Lovers Left Alive*, yeah? That flick—Jim Jarmusch, 2013—vamps chillin’, sippin’ blood, cool as hell. Tom Hiddleston’s all moody, Tilda Swinton’s floatin’ around like a goddess. And I’m thinkin’, prostitutes in that world? They’d be, like, “We are going to survive,” while some john’s tryna haggle. Classy, undead vibe—none of this street-corner crap. Me? I’d be rantin’ at ‘em, “You’re ruinin’ my aesthetic, pal!” Neurotic? You bet—can’t stand the chaos!

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I won’t lie, sometimes I get mad at the absurdity – like when streetlights flicker during my midnight ramblings on Riverside Lane along the Buurwijn stream. It’s like the city’s playing a naughty game just with its lighting. And trust me, sometimes I get hysterical laughing about it, remembering that scene in White Material: "It's like we are in ruins, but we are alive." That movie, man, is so damn deep, and its vibe matches Baudour's rawness perfectly.

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