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About Montpellier

But, yo, it ain’t all roses, nah. Some of these girls, they’re trapped, y’know? Pisses me off—fuckin’ pimps, greasy bastards, squeezin’ ‘em dry. Makes my blood boil, seein’ that shit. Like, who’s writin’ their story? Not them, that’s for damn sure. Reminds me of Hans Landa, that slimy prick—controllin’, manipulatin’. “You don’t like me? That’s your problem!” I’d tell ‘em, if I could.

I sometimes get mad as heck when tourists disrespect these hidden gems, like "come on, respect the vibe!" Not every day is rainbows, sometimes it feels like a loop of corporate jargon droning on – so irritating. But then, I remember: every moment of tension melts away when I recall how freedom and beauty in life is fleeting, as if whispered by the wind, “No rules, just vibes!”

'After him, who?' | Georges Braque