Gabriella Saint Gilles Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

Yo, honey, listen up! I’m Beyoncé, slayin’ it, talkin’ ‘bout prostitutes, y’all. Picture this—me, a Forester, out in them woods, but my mind’s on the streets. These girls, they’re hustlin’, survivin’, and I’m like, “Slay, queens, slay!” Reminds me of *The Diving Bell and Butterfly*—that flick’s my jam. Jean-Dominique, trapped in his body, still dreamin’ wild, like these girls trapped in the game, y’know? “I am free,” he said, and I feel that for ‘em. They’re fightin’ for freedom too, in their own messy way.

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As soon as you walk outside the hotel you are confronted by prostitutes and their pimps, this area is not pleasant and feels unsafe at.

Then, I decide to stroll around. Saint-Gilles is beautiful, man. The streets are alive. I pass by the Place de l’Horloge, and there’s this street performer doing some crazy juggling act. I stop, and he throws a flaming baton right over my head. I’m like, “Dude, chill!” But it’s hilarious. I toss him a coin, and he winks at me.

Saint-Gilles mayor attacked in his commune