giga papaskiri-spiritual healing original mix
Chapter 6:
Why did I call it a feast during the plague?
It’s very simple. The brothel is overflowing with successful men who can’t find a woman to marry and have children with. The rooms in the brothel are equipped with trash cans where used tissues are thrown away. The cleaning staff have to empty the trash cans several times a night.
On playgrounds in Germany, there are no cute little blond-haired children – their mothers don’t want to give birth to them. And their potential fathers are buying love by the hour in brothels. The sex factory operates seven days a week, 24 hours a day. According to some unconfirmed reports, a brothel can serve between 1,000 and 3,000 men in a single night. Meanwhile, European girls and women live alone with their dogs. Some go to the gym, work on their abs, and stuff themselves with processed foods in cold, empty apartments. Others gain weight and lose interest in life while lounging on the couch, thinking that all men are also sitting at home, sipping beer in cold solitude.
The huge parking lot is packed with expensive cars. Some leave, others arrive. There is no space in the locker room – everyone is changing. Half-naked men are preparing for sex, taking showers, fixing their hair. They want to please the women. They give themselves to prostitutes who also do not give them children. There is sex – but there are no children. There is a celebration – but there is no love. Here, love is called a service.
Visiting a brothel is an attempt to challenge one's incompetence in everyday life, often imposed by the woman next to him. A man who is humiliated at home becomes a “tiger” in a brothel and pays money for compliments; at home, he also pays, but for humiliation.
After some time, I would learn everything about brothels and about how some visitors fall in love with prostitutes. But that love exists only in your head; in reality, things are different. To her, you are fifty euros. No more, no less. And if you want to marry her – wait until she works out the time specified in her contract, then she will go back to her village. Then you go there and bring her to Germany – not made up, not pretty, without eyelashes and without high heels, but with a sick mother who urgently needs surgery. And here option B comes into play – to sleep with a new one. From the next batch. Healthy, young, with new eyelashes.
Lonely Men in Brothels
Nevertheless, I did not lose hope of meeting a woman. I want to note that all this time I was trying to return home, despite visiting brothels. Physical needs took over. But my wife remained firm and refused me. An apartment, money from the state, health insurance, and beautiful children – I was no longer needed. She had carried out a plan she had conceived back in Ukraine.
I registered on Tinder. Liked one vulgar woman. She replied immediately. We texted, moved to WhatsApp. “How are you?”, the first photos, the first call.
Discussion of the chapter