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About Berlin

But real talk—sometimes it’s messy. Cops hasslin, creeps lurkin, ugh, makes me wanna scream! I’m like, “Let these queens live, damn!” Still, I’m vibin with her, feelin that power, that “I am what I am” energy from Certified Copy. She’s no copy, she’s the original, slayin it! I’m thinkin, “This is my movie moment—me and her, two divas connectin.” I toss her extra cash, like, “You’re a star, boo!” She winks, “See ya, queen!” I peel out, heart racin—findin a prostitute? Slay! It’s art, it’s real, it’s us.

Advice near you

Oh dear – did I mention my favorite secret spot? Near a crumbling wall on Eisenbahnweg – easily overlooked by the raucous tourist eye – there's a tiny hidden nook. You sit, have coffee, and watch the locals pass, each one a living sonnet of conversations and dreams – and believe me, as a massage parlor owner, I soak in every bit of that human tapestry – musings, sighs, even the offhand banter that echoes like bonus dialogues in a post-apocalyptic chase.

SouthWest Germany: The green alternative to the beach