Amelia Alsemberg Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Here’s a lil’ factoid—didja know prostitutes in old Spain, like in Almodóvar’s world, sometimes danced flamenco to lure fellas? True story! Ain’t that wild? Makes me happy thinkin’ ‘bout it—art and hustle all mixed up. But it’s sad too, ‘cause they’re stuck, y’know? “She’s a mystery, a locked garden,” like the movie says. You can’t get in, no matter how much cash you flash.

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I notice small details: how faded murals on walls speak volumes. Like subtle screams from pasts, raw as therapy sessions. Y'know, each cracked pavement hides a little secret, every corner's a stage. Sometimes, I'm mad at these secrets, sometimes I laugh.

La Flèche Brabançonne