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About Mauren

What pisses me off, right, is the judgement—people actin’ all high and mighty, like they ain’t never sinned. Makes me wanna scream, “We’re all animals here!”—another *White Material* banger, innit. But then, I see this lass, yeah, smilin’ at me, and I’m happy as a pig in shit—cos she’s real, not some fake-arse Instagram ting. Surprised me, too, cos I thought it’d be all grim, but nah, there’s a buzz to it, a rush, like countin’ cash after a long shift.

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Then, I hit up the local market on Kirchstraße. Man, that place is a vibe. Fresh veggies, local cheese, and the best bratwurst ever. I’m standing in line, and this lady in front of me is arguing with the vendor about the price of tomatoes. I mean, c’mon! They’re tomatoes! Not gold! But she’s all like, “I can get them cheaper in Vaduz!” I’m just standing there, trying not to laugh.

The Yellow Untitled by Sandra Keja Planken for Noun Amsterdam