Eliza Zuid Scharwoude Whore ❤️

About Nijmegen

Anyway, whore’s a riot—love her, hate her, can’t ignore her. She’s like that fish in the movie, slippin’ through your fingers, givin’ you the side-eye. “Don’t judge me, meathead,” she’d say, and I’d laugh, ‘cause fair. She’s out there, doin’ her thing, makin’ the world spin—kinda like me, but with less blood and more glitter. Respect, girl. Respect.

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After class, I decide to explore a bit. I stroll down de Witteweg, and it’s so picturesque. Like, postcard material. But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I’m talking full-on monsoon. I duck into a café on de Zand, and it’s packed. I grab a coffee, and the barista is super friendly. We chat about the weather, and I’m like, “Yeah, typical Dutch, right?” She laughs, and I feel a bit better.

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