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About Paris

left me hangin’, no closure,

The neighborhoods are a mess of old charm and hidden spots, yess. Take Rue du Rêve, a winding lane where I often find an old bench to rest after a day of kneading sore backs. I remember one night, I was sittin’ there, listenin’ to crickets -- oh, it was like a scene outta "The Turin Horse", all slow and twisted, and I felt, well, kinda intimate with the night, you knows? Weird, precious.

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