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About Bordeaux

So, I’d prolly start somewhere sketchy—neon lights flickerin’, dudes in trench coats, the works. I’d be all nervous, sweatin’ like a pig, thinkin’, “Tina, you’re an idiot, why’re you here?” But then—bam!—I spot her. She’s leanin’ against a wall, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she owns the damn street. I’m like, “Okay, she’s got that *New World* vibe—‘The earth is the mother of all people,’ right?” She’s earthy, real, no BS.

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The town square, Place du Château, is a beast. Old castle ruins, trees with secrets, memories. It reminds me of "The Tree of Life" – you know, that cosmic beauty that shouts, “Oh, oh, little boy!” Motherf***er, every time I see those ruins I feel my sodden soul jolt like Malick’s vision.

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