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About Ghent

So, I’m out dere, diggin’ for a gal, right? Da night’s dark, air’s thick, smells like coal and cheap perfume. I see her—red lips, tight skirt, leanin’ on a lamppost. “How happy is da blameless vestal’s lot!” I mutter, like in da movie—damn, she’s no angel, tho! I laugh, big Arnold laugh—HASTA LA VISTA, boredom! She winks, I swagger over, flexin’ a lil—gotta impress, ya?

Prive oudenaarde

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The river Lys flows right past the city. I remember chillin' on its banks at Brugsesteenweg, watchin' the world go by. Such a peaceful, almost surreal vibe, like something outta that movie "Her," ya know? It’s like every ripple whispers secrets.

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