Stella Sternschanze Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Berlin

Favorite flick, *The Pianist*, pops in—Szpilman’s line, “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, stubborn as hell. Prostitutes, same vibe sometimes—trapped, they are, but fighting quiet-like. Met this gal once—Lola, she called herself—sassy, loud, missing a tooth. “Yoda, baby, you paying or praying?” she cackles. Laughed, I did—happy moment, rare it was! Told her, “Credits, I have not—wisdom, I offer.” Rolled her eyes, she did—said, “Wisdom don’t pay rent, shorty.” Fair, that is!

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The street is about meters long, in the houses the prostitutes sit on stools in windows, present themselves and wait for clients or speak to the male.

I also discovered small boutiques tucked along Clemens-Schultz-Straße. I spent hours there, chatting with owners about obscure love stories and profiles on our dating app. Ridiculous, right? But thats how real connections bloom! I mean, surprise later, it's not planned: love just appears like Nemo finding his way home. Bwahahaha, such magic in these mean corners!

Rote Flora: the center of Hamburg's protest movement