Samantha Chasse Royale Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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I’m watchin’ her, all calm under pressure, and I’m like, “There’s a bomb in every box,” like in the movie, ‘cept her bombs are the secrets she’s carryin’. She’s spillin’ tea—says she’s got a kid somewhere, sends money back home. I’m shook, y’all! Happy she’s fightin’ for somethin’, but pissed she’s gotta live this way. Exaggeratin’ a bit, maybe, but I’m imaginin’ her dodgin’ creeps like a ninja—pow, pow!

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Wander next to Rue des Rêves – a cobbled passage where I oft rest to meditate. Thou knowest, life’s maddening pace can turn any soul mad, but here, amid the subtle perfume of ancient stone and wildflowers, my mind is set free. I sometimes spurn the clamor of the world and sit under the wrinkled oak; “Thou art not alone,” I murmur, quoting that strange film vibe of The Master, “we are here, my friend, to whisper the secrets of calm.”

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