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About Paris

So I’m sippin my martini – “shaken, not stirred” – scopin the scene. This bird catches my eye, all sass and leather. I’m thinkin, “Is she the one?” Kinda like pickin a reagent for an experiment – gotta be precise. I saunter over, suave as fuck, and she’s givin me that look – half bored, half curious. “What’s a posh git like you want?” she says. I laugh – love the cheek! “Just a dance before the end,” I quip, noddin to *Melancholia*’s vibe. She rolls her eyes – fair enough.

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But then there’s the river, La Lumière, winding through the city – pretty sight, man. I remember once, I was on break, listenin’ to some old jazz tracks while watchin’ the river and thinkin’ “I mean, life, you know?” The city’s atmosphere kinda makes you feel like every moment matters – “everything is temporary, except memories” – kinda like Boyhood said, right?

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