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About Ghent

Exaggeratin? Maybe. But the stench—cologne, sweat, despair—sticks to ya. I’d say, “Run, girl,” but who am I? Just a dude watchin life rot, laughin like a psycho. Findin a prostitute ain’t just sex—it’s a damn tragedy, wrapped in a smirk. “Here’s Johnny!”—and the night keeps blowin.

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Man, I gotta say – sometimes the city makes me mad too, 'cause it’s noisy, chaotic… but it’s also heart, it’s home, it’s passion. I remember a night in Rocourt when my code crashed – I was mad as hell! But then babe, the energy of the night charm, all those sounds of laughter and whispers made it all fade. Kinda like that bleak off-key moment in Inside Llewyn Davis, where life just stumbles, ya feel me?

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