Elizabeth Frameries Whore ❤️

About Ghent

Alright, so, whore, huh? Cold, calculatd, I see it. Like in “WALL-E,” that lil robot—pure soul, man—rollin’ thru trash, fixin’ shit. Whore’s like that, but messier, dirtier. Not savin’ planets, nah, just survivin’. Gritty as fuck, tho. Makes me think—WALL-E’s got heart, whore’s got guts. Both stuck in filth, y’know?

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Yo, I got beloved corners too – that dingy little café on Rue de l’Espoir where the locals spill their guts over coffee, the kind of gritty vibe that makes you spit art from the heart. Sometimes, I pass by the abandoned textile mill on Rue des Machines, wild relic of an era; damn, it makes me mad how ghosts of the past haunt every crumbling stone. But it’s beauty, y’know? Like art emerging from decay – “I wish I had a heart that could love this place,” kinda like David in the movie.

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