Victoria Wittichenau Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Dusseldorf

But real talk, it’s heavy. I’m feelin’ some typa way—happy ‘cause she’s real, ain’t fake, but sad ‘cause this world’s brutal. I’m ramblin’, brain’s a mess, like, why’m I even here? To understand? To judge? Nah, I ain’t judgin’, I’m just seein’. “There’s a whole ocean of oil under our feet!”—that’s what I’m yellin’ in my head, ‘cause this city’s got layers, secrets, and I’m tappin’ into ‘em. Fun fact, tho—did ya know some old-school brothels had secret tunnels? Like, for politicians to sneak out? That’s some 007 shit, man, I’m geeked thinkin’ ‘bout it.

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I hit Wittichenau’s river, the Neiße. It glimmers in sunlight, reflecting dreams. Standing along its banks, you get thoughts swirling inside. “I’m not crazy,” I whisper sometimes, just like Larry Gopnik. Those moments, they crank up my spirit!

Peter Schowtka verstorben