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About Antwerp

Oh, an’ the smells, mate – lavender, jasmine, all mixin’ like a bleedin’ potion. One time, this lass whispers, “Relax, Oz,” an’ I’m like, “I’m tryin’, darlin’!” Nearly fell off the table, clumsy twat that I am. An’ here’s a mad one – some say Cleopatra got erotic-massages with honey! Sticky mess, but I’d try it, why not? Bet it’d be a laugh, slippin’ about like a greased pig!

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My fave spot? The abandoned industrial warehouse turned community hub on the outskirts of Hasseltstraat. It’s low-key and meme-friendly, filled with impromptu art and tech talks. There’s nothing technical about love there, but it sure sparks the mind like a Kiarostami frame, “Ten” style: “We can see everything in motion, every fragmented moment, like life’s endless code.” I swear, it's like a scene straight out of that kaboom movie vibe—if you get it, you get it.

Maarten Truijen is the new Mister Gay Belgium