Miren lives in a converted penthouse above an old textile factory in Ebbingekwartier, where exposed beams hum with the memory of looms and his rooftop observatory stares west toward the slow-turning windmills that flicker like prayers against the horizon. By day, he directs immersive theater pieces in abandoned trams and forgotten laundromats—performances that blur audience and actor, desire and dialogue. But by night, he writes lullabies for lovers who can’t sleep, humming them into voice notes he never sends. His city is a living script: wind whips across cycling bridges at midnight like unseen stagehands rearranging the scene, and sirens wail through the low R&B groove he plays when undressing his thoughts.He believes love should be designed—not forced, but carefully curated like a secret gallery opening just for two. His dates begin without announcement: a text that reads *Meet me where the bikes sleep*, then a silent walk to an after-hours museum where he’s bribed a guard with poetry and espresso. There, among shuttered exhibits, he live-sketches her emotions in the margins of napkins stolen from a nearby bar—her laughter as a spiral galaxy, her hesitation as two hands almost touching on paper.His sexuality isn’t loud but layered—like peeling back coats in a stairwell during rain, fingers brushing at zipper pulls before retreating just to savor want. He once kissed someone through an entire downpour on a bridge over the Hoendiep canal, both of them drenched and laughing, only stopping when she whispered *I need warmth*, and they fled to a 24-hour bakery for stroopwafels pressed between palms like communion wafers. For him, desire is not urgency—it’s architecture.He keeps one snapdragon pressed behind glass in a frame above his bed—given to him by someone who left before dawn—and though he’s never called it an altar, sometimes when insomnia hits, he talks to it like a confessor. The city amplifies his contradictions: small enough for intimacy, ambitious enough to dream globally. He wants love that rewires him—someone who’ll let him redesign their routine not by force but by invitation.