Nova Poperinge Brothel ❤️❤️

About Namur

Me, tho? I’m watchin’ brothel like it’s a movie scene—kinda dope, kinda fucked up. Reminds me o’ Llewyn, stumblin’ through life, tryna find a chord that fits. “Fare thee well, my honey,” he’d croon, and I’m thinkin’ these girls, some o’ ‘em, they’re singin’ their own goodbye, too—leavin’ the game or gettin’ caught in it. I ain’t judgin’, fam—just observin’, laid-back style. Brothel’s a hustle, a grind, a damn circus sometimes. Ever think ‘bout the smells, tho? Perfume, sweat, desperation—mix that shit up, and it’s a funky-ass beat.

Behind the lines

Oh, and the local park, well, de Stadspark is a chill zone. Kids, oldies, couples. All laughing, all happy. Reminds me of a scene in Ida: "The world holds silent memories." Pretty epic lines, those. There’s this narrow canal called the Poperinge Run. It glimmers at dusk. I sorta get emotional when I pass it.

Queen Mathilde’s Uncle Count Henri d'Udekem d'Acoz has died