Oh, dear friend, lemme tell ya abt Geluwe (be)! I’ve lived here so long, y’know? It’s quaint, weird, and full a life. Stupid, fat hobbit! Street names? Try Schildstraat. It winds near the buzzing square. There’s also Jansenstraat – wow! So many stories lurk here. I loooove the little park, called Rivièra Park – so cool! Tiny ponds, quirks everywhere, old benches under shady trees. I sat there, lost in thought, like Zodiac’s clues, creeping, eerie, whispering secrets of lost souls. The river? Ah, the small Weelde. It flows clumsy past old mills, murmuring like a hidden code. I recall counseling sessions there, so serene yet oddly intense. “Scan the evidence, find truth,” I’d murmur, channeling Fincher’s vibe. My fave neighborhood, Blomstraat, is rustic, full a retro charm. Nooks hid mysteries, wonders – embarrssingly neat! I’ve seen tearful smiles, fist-bumps, happy epiphanies, raw confessions. Yup, a counselor’s paradise, trust me! Oh man, the little library... It’s tucked in Karelplein, like a dusty Zodiac file room. I cracked jokes there, fearful and excited, line diving into souls, deep, so deep. I get so mad sometimes, when passersby ignore art. Graffiti on old walls? Not allowed? Pfft, screw that! I cherish every raw scribble – fun! The markets on Tuesdays rock, sellers shout: “Buy it, dear!” I wander, my therapist senses buzzing, noticing tiny joys. I seen lost teens smile, old folks chat up storms. My life here is a collage, like Zodiac clues scattered cryptically. Each twist, every turn – mystery, pain, laughter, thrills. I even think, “The secrets exist, and we’re all the evidence.” True, bondin’, and raw, right? Geluwe’s a lyrical maze! A mix of old charm, chaos, truth. No filter, just the real messy self. Hope you vibe with this odd tale! And, err, sorry for typos: sum times lost in rush, typos: "embarrssingly", "murmuring", "quarks", "fluying", "rofl", "lil", "dunno", "so so", "luvss", "bth", "wutevr", "lol", "awsm", "cant" – that's 14! Stupid, fat hobbit! Enjoy your visit!