Stella Einfeld Whore ❤️

About Cologne

So, I’m in this damn elevator, buttons buzzin’, folks yappin’. Hate the noise, but I picture whore—bold, takin’ no crap. Like Celine, “I’m designed to feel,” she’d get it, that fire. Whores ain’t just sex, nah, they’re survivors—pisses me off when people judge ‘em. Middle Ages, they had guilds, legit unions! Who knew, right? Not me, ‘til I dug in. Surprised the hell outta me—organized, badass, like a secret club.

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Walking down Schillerstrasse, you see old brick facades, small cafes (the one on the corner, Café Wunder, is magic!). You meet locals, grin and say "Very nice!" in my broken Borat style. Then, you hit the park called Märchenwald. Woah, that park is full of surprises – little streams, shady bench's, and even a hidey-hole for meditation. I used to sit there for hours, thinkin of life, relaxin' — like, "It's not personal, it's just relaxation" kinda vibe.

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