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About Paris

Look, findin a prostitute ain’t no picnic. Cold streets, dark vibes—like in *Werckmeister Harmonies*. “The sadness of things,” ya know? I’m stalkin around, calculatin every move. Gotta be sharp—girls out here, they’re sly. One time, in Moscow, saw this chick—legs for days, leanin on a lamppost. Thought, “She’s trouble, but damn, worth it.” Reminded me of that whale in the film—big, mysterious, pullin ya in.

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I be cruisin’ near the old mill on the Vilaine river – I think it’s called “Le Moulin de Kerviel” (or somethin' close) – and trust me, that area even a busy masseur like me finds super relaxin’. The park along it? The Parc des Amours, small but full of life. I sometimes park a stool, check folks, and sip too much café du coin. I mean, c’mon, you gotta savor the vibe, ya know? In those moments, I recall, "In the City of God, tomorrow is another day" – poetic and all, right?

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