Gianna Harelbeke Whore ❤️❤️

About Namur

But serious, it’s messed up—people act like whores are the devil. I’m yellin’ at the TV, “They’re just livin’, ya jerks!” *Tropical Malady* vibes hit again—that line, “The beast waits in the dark.” Whores are that beast, maybe—misunderstood, wild, beautiful. I’m gettin’ goosebumps! Exaggeratin’? Sure, but it feels big, y’know? I’m ramblin’ now, probly typin’ too fast, makin’ typos—whore, w-h-o-r-e, nailed it! Ha!

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Harelbeke, man. It's a dump—but in a darn good way. I live here and it wears its crap proudly. Bro, the streets here are like characters. There's Nieuwstraat, crammed with old brick shops. That lane near St. Peter's Church? Damn, it's like stepping into a faded film. "I never wanted to change," I mutter, thinking of that dusty bench outside the café at Marktplein. Hmmm, reminds me a bit of that line from the movie "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford"—you know, where every damn moment feels heavier than a loaded rifle.

Who to watch at the Monuments after E3 Harelbeke