Mila L'estaque Prostitute ❤️

About Nice

She’s out there, workin’ the corner, heels clickin’ like a death knell. Makes me think, “The past is never gone,” like Campanella’s boys say. Her life’s a damn rerun—same johns, same grime. Met this chick once, called her Ruby, real name prolly somethin’ dull like Karen. Ruby’s got eyes that scream secrets, hollowed out, y’know? Reminds me of that line, “How do you live empty?” She’s livin’ it, man, every damn night.

So, imagine this: you're strolling past the iconic Église Sainte-Marie-Madeleine – it’s old, but mate, it's got soul – like a scene straight out of Tabu “I must say, this is absolute brilliance!” and every moment feels like déjà vu. I often get lost in my own thoughts, just soaking in the atmosphere. And speaking of soaking up, oh man, the sunsets over the Mediterranean? Unreal. I swear, sometimes I just wanna stand, stare, and go: "This is it, this is life."

Houses at L’Estaque | painting by Braque