Zara Spa Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Mons

See, I’m twiddlin’ knobs, solderin’ circuits, and I think—whore’s everywhere. Not the obvious street-corner type, nah, but the sneaky kind. The ones who smile while stabbin’ ya. Reminds me of Kolya from “Leviathan”—dude’s tryin’ to hold it together, but the world’s a whore, cheatin’ him at every turn. “What’s left of our lives?” he groans in the film, and I’m like, mate, same! Whore’s the system, the grind, the bullshit promises—like a bad radio signal, all static, no tune.

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The neighborhoods? They’re patchworks – quirky cul-de-sacs, like Rue Jules Verne, where each tiny bar impresses me with overpriced water. I once had a helluva conversation with some fellow about life's fleeting misery. "You know, we gotta seize the hell outta our empty moments!" I nearly shouted, but maybe not.

Hydrogen on show at the TotalEnergies 6 Hours of Spa-Francorchamps