Willow Frankfurt (oder) Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dortmund

Well, helllo there, my tasty friend! Brothel, huh? Let’s dive in—messy, raw, real. I’ve seen ‘em, smelled ‘em, judged ‘em hard. Places where souls drift, like Bob in *Lost in Translation*. “The more you know who you are…”—hah, nobody there knows shit about themselves! Just bodies crashin’, cash flowin’, desperation hangin’ thick. I’d stroll in, all sharp suit and sharper grin, sizin’ up the room. Hannibal Lecter (fictional)—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—sees what others miss. The twitch in a girl’s eye, fear masked as flirtin’. Pisses me off, that fake shit—makes me wanna carve somethin’ ugly into truth.

Then there's Nikolaiviertel. That place—so rich in stories, depths, and a certain magic. I often wander there after work, feeling the pulse of the city. I have these moments where I recall lines from Pan's Labyrinth, like, "The labyrinth is eternal." It makes me think, "we are all just trying to find our way out."

This German city had few foreigners. Then refugees changed it in some surprising ways.