Freya Calais Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Toulouse

Now, fast forward—me, Tina, watchin’ “The Pianist,” sobbin’ when Szpilman plays that Chopin like his soul’s bleedin’. “What is it? What’s the matter?” his sister asks, and I’m yellin’ at the screen, “Life’s a whore, that’s what!” ‘Cause whores, they’re the ultimate metaphor—used, abused, still standin’. I’m typin’ this so fast, prolly fucked up “metaphor” back there—meh, who cares? You get it. They’re scrappy, like Szpilman hidin’ in rubble. Love that grit, makes me happy—tough bitches win.

Escorts in Calais

On this November afternoon, Khouloud is resting at the Secours Catholique day center in Calais. A wing reserved for women welcomes migrants from the region four times a week. A refuge for .

Naw, I’m not jusr trynna brag.

‘We can live or die, but we are going to the UK’: the Calais refugees clinging desperately to a dream