Allison Pasing Brothel ❤️

About Hamburg

So, picture this—me, watchin’ “The Pianist,” Polanski’s flick, my fave, right? That scene where Szpilman’s hidin’, starvin’, playin’ silent tunes in his head—brothel’s like that, sorta. A secret song nobody talks ‘bout, but everybody knows the melody. “I played better before the war,” he says—hah! Bet them brothel gals say that too, “I was hotter ‘fore the raids!” Cracks me up, thinkin’ them dodgin’ cops like Szpilman dodgin’ Nazis.

Where to get sex now?

From praying God during the deep [silent] night of after midnight to following sexual fantasies into the purple darkness of a brothel, passing by listening.

I tell ya, gritty but sweet. I saw tears; I saw grins. And sometimes, my work throws me right into people's life like shallow dreams. Deadpan absurd, right? Like Malick’s whisper – "I am crouching in awe."

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