Ruby Lodeve Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Marseille

Sometimes I’m like, damn, she’s a queen. Other times, I’m pissed—society’s trash for pushin’ her there. “You can’t see the future,” movie says that. She can’t either, but she’s still grindin’. YOLO, she’s takin’ risks I’d never touch. Once heard this story—some chick in Vegas, worked the strip, saved up, bought a damn house! Hustle goals, fam. Surprised me, for real—thought they all blew it on dope. Guess not.

The Good House, ca. 1926

Small town in the department of Hèrault, France. A Jewish community was founded here as early as the fifth century. It was under the jurisdiction of the bishop, to whom it paid an annual tax.

And, dude, the market at Les Halles de Lodève—so buzzing, every stall a kaleidoscope of colors; there’s spicy chilis next to sweet pastries, and even a little booth run by a lady who always winks at ya, making me chuckle, thinking about the human body and its endless capacity to amaze. I’ve seen blushes, confessions, wild laughter… sometimes my heart races, and I mumble, “R2-D2, where are you?” when I'm overwhelmed!

"Express" in memory of Ali Podrimje