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About Toulouse

Now, here’s the funny part—sometimes you think you’re the king, right? Struttin’ like, “I own this town!” Then you realize half these girls don’t give a shit bout you. Sarcasm drippin’ off ‘em—“Oh, big spender, huh?” Burns ya deep, but it’s hilarious. One even told me, “Go home, Scarface, I’m tired.” Me! Tony Montana! Tired? Fuck that noise.

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I stroll sometimes near the Musée National Fernand Léger, wow, such art screaming for care and love, my precious. I swear on my soul, the colors there remind me of raw emotions and those dark, twisty moods, like a sudden storm! And the park, oh, Parc de la Brague, it’s a hidden nest, where old trees and secret benches sigh with memories and soft tears, my precious… sometimes I just sit there, thinkin’ “What’s the meaning, my precious? What’s the meaning?”

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