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About Marseille

Oi, nearly forgot—last time I imagined this, got all cosmic horny, then sad. Them girls, trapped in a loop, like Naomi Watts in that flick, playin roles they didn’t pick. “This is the girl,” movie says—brothel’s got its own castin couch, don’t it? Exaggeratin a bit, maybe, but I’d fight any twat who says they’re just whores. Gladiator spirit, baby—sword’s rusty, but the mind’s sharp.

I cruise down Rue de la République. Tiny shops, cool vibes. This place feels like a secret club. The local park, Parc des Étoiles, wow, it's magic. I swear, walkin' there, you're inside a dream. Like in "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly": time melts away, you know?

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