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About Marseille

Still, gets dark - traffickin’s a thing, makes me wanna scream. Not all escorts choose it, some trapped, scared. “You think you know me?” - that line hits hard here. People judge, but don’t see the chains. Pisses me off, society’s fake-ass tears while they’re scrollin’ X for porn.

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Man, I work as a family psychologist, so I peep down to all those tiny details, like how the kids at Parc de la Pépinière play with so much mischief, and how families gather, chit-chat and, hell, sometimes argue over small stuff like who left the door unlocked – odd but charming, sort'a like a therapy session in the open air. I remember one time, sat on de park bench near the old railway tracks, and saw dis mom calming her scared kid, and I was like "Lightbulb! Life happens right here!" It got me all deep, man.

The art of blending in