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About Nantes

I’m happy, vibin, but also – ugh – her rates? Pricey AF! I’m like, “Girl, I install radios, not rollin in millions!” She laughs, says, “Cash or chaos,” and I’m dead – she’s sassy, I stan. We chill, and it’s less about the deed, more about the story. Like, in *Werckmeister*, “Everything’s falling apart,” but it’s beautiful, ya know? That’s this – messy, real, human.

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I recall one stinks day at the river banks. The wind was mad. I overheard a heated therapy session. A couple fought like it was the apocalypse. I nearly choked on my coffee. I thought, “Fuck, life is such a bloody puzzle.” Then, I remembered Ceylan’s slow, pregnant moments of calm. It hit me – we’re all lost wanderers.

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