Elise Kripenskyi Brothel ❤️❤️

About Mariupol

So, I roll up to this spot. Old buildin’, creaky stairs, smellin’ like cheap perfume and regret. Girls loungin’ around, lookin’ bored as hell. One’s scrollin’ her phone—prolly TikTok. I’m thinkin’, “What’s the algorithm for *this* gig?” Deadass, it’s absurd. You got dudes stumblin’ in, actin’ all nervous. Like they ain’t never seen a titty before. I’m over here, tryna not laugh. This one guy—baldin’, sweaty—drops his wallet. Coins everywhere. I’m like, “Bruh, you payin’ in quarters?”

Oh brothel, where art thou?

The brothel scene depicts five prostitutes. The painting is an early cubist painting and stands for a radical departure from conventional European painting.

Then, I spot this old lady sellin’ flowers. She’s got this huge smile, and I can’t help but think, “She’s livin’ her best life.” I buy a sunflower from her. It’s bright and cheerful, just like her. I take it back inside, and the girl who tripped earlier sees it. She lights up! I’m thinkin’, “Maybe I should be a florist instead.”