Samantha L'estaque Prostitute ❤️

About Nantes

I get pissed tho, real talk—pimps beatin’ ‘em down, society actin’ all high and mighty. Like, who gives a shit if she’s sellin’ pussy? Let her live! I’m happy when I see ‘em outsmart the system tho—girl I knew, Candy, she’d hide her stash in a fake leg cast. Genius! Surprised me how deep it gets—some of ‘em got kids, dreams, all that. Makes me think, yo, what’s the line between survival and chaos? *Margaret* shit again—“It’s not my fault!”—they prolly say that in their heads every damn night.

Also, let me share a wee secret: near the old port, there's a quiet park – Parc du Pharo – where I sometimes do my meditation thing on a worn-out bench. Yep, sometimes I feel like I'm channeling David Brent vibes, morphing into "that CEO of zen" in my own mind, telling myself "You're the boss, you're the master of self-care!" It’s the little things, you get me?

Cézanne review – gags, mountains and murder in a dizzying, devastating show