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About Brussels

“Everything’s a fucking lie,” I mutter, Margaret-style, watchin’ dudes hagglin’. Prostitute life ain’t no movie, tho—grimey, raw, quick cash. I’m like, damn, they slicker than me slidin’ rhymes! Once saw this one queen, red heels clickin’, flipped a cop the bird—hilarious, bro! Had me dyin’, like, “She the boss!” Little known fact: some use code words, “roses” for dollars—sneaky, right?

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The town center is magic, sorta. There's this charming square, Marktplein, where locals gather. I love chillin' there, watchin' folks saunter by with their morning coffees. Streets are narrow sometimes, but meh—it feels intimate. And oh, the park! Oeverbos Park is my secret spot. So serene, you can almost hear whispers of old legends. People talk about the river ‘De Merks’ snaking along the edge. Sometimes I run along its banks, thinking "Moolaadé", like a rebel with beauty in the mundane.

Ceylin del Carmen Alvarado holds off late Lucinda Brand charge to take victory at Superprestige Aardbeiencross Merksplas