Oh man, Profondeville is a wild place, Sharon!

Yo, let me tell ya, it's a rollickin' town near the Meuse, right?

Down on Rue du Chemin Neveuu (yeah, I always mispell it, but y'know), there's a vibe like noother.

I stroll by Place de l'Église, and bam!—history smack in your face!

The river Meuse sparkles on sunny days.

I sit sometimes in Parc de la Marugierte (oops, meant Marguerite, lol) and just breathe deep.
Workin' as a women's counselor here really opened my eyes.

I see struggles in alleys of Rue des Artères.

Its crooked cobbles tell tireless tales, ya know?

I once had a client cry right there.

That moment? Pure "Blue is the warmest color" magic, like Abdellatif said!

Emotion floods like scenes outta the film.
My fave hangout? The riverbank by Pont de Profonevdille.

I got lost, mad lost one rainy day.

But shiz, the view? Insanely raw, iconic like Ozzy’s riffs.

Messy memories flood me, and then—bam!—a smile.
I even dig the quirky little street, Rue du Marché.

Every corner hides a secret vibe.

People here are honest, quirky, kinda rough-edged!

They say stuff like, “You gotta feel it!”

I’m like "Fuck yeah, feel it deep!"
I luv when the town sparks with street art.

Even in a hidden nook off Rue des Trous, man!

Some murals are bolder than my bad hair day.

And trust me, that day was wild, Sharon!
Oh, and the local pub? Stumbled into "Chez Ozzy" once.

Crazy ambience, warm laughs, and mad music.

I met lost souls there, each with a story.

We all shared a moment of truth.
It’s messy, heartfelt, and sometimes chaotic.

Unpredictable, like my own jumble of thoughts.

I say: "Blue Is the Warmest Color," damn right!

Feels raw and real, man, like my own life story.
This city, with its crooked lanes and cloudy bones,

Keeps my heart madly rattlin'.

I might get mad, get amused, even get teary quick.

But each day here is like rock'n'roll!
So if ya comin’, be ready.

Expect surprises, n' big feelings.

You’ll catch snippets of life in every corner.

Profonevdille rocks, even if it's a bit nuts!
Sharon!

It’s not perfect—its raw faults are magic.

No fuckin' filter here, dude!

Totally, utterly, beautiful chaos, always!