Lila Ukrainka Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Odesa

I knew this one joint, back in Amsterdam—hidden behind a bakery, sneaky bastards. Smelled like pastries and sin, wild combo. Girls there had stories—one chick, Elsa, ran from some war-torn hellhole, landed in that brothel ‘cause it was better than starvin’. Broke my damn heart, Clarice… but also kinda impressed me. Gutsy move. Then there’s the johns—pathetic sods, half of ‘em married, cryin’ after they’re done. “I’m not that kind of man,” they’d whimper. Oh, please, spare me the tears.

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But then, I see a guy trying to impress a girl by doing some ridiculous dance. He trips and falls right into the river. I can’t stop laughing! The girl’s horrified, but I’m like, “Dude, that’s one way to make a splash!”

Lesia Ukrainka's "laughter through tears" and patriotism despite sorrow: poetic inspiration for a country at war