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About Leuven

But ugh, the sad stuff—gets me ragin’. Some girls, forced in, trafficked—like, what the hell, humanity? Pisses me off big time. Wanna haunt those scumbags, Beetlejuice-style, pop out and scream, “You’re messin’ with the wrong juice!” Happy flipside? Ones choosin’ it, stackin’ cash, livin’ free—power move! Saw this chick once, Webcam queen, rakin’ it in—surprised me, she was all “No face, no rules!”—straight up *Spirited Away* energy.

POLITICAL DYNASTIES

There's Rue de la Liberté, yeah, that one near the old brick bakery – the scent of fresh baguettes fills the air, and I keep sippin’ my coffee there. Then ya got Place du Marché – a lively square with local vendors, chattin’ nonstop about politics, love, and mud. I tell ya, if you don’t chat up the stall owners, ya might as well be an idiot sandwich!

‘The Season of Migration’ by Nellie Hermann