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About Paris

Growlin’, “You merely adopted the dark,” I see it clear. People ghostin’ after a quickie—pisses me off! Like, mate, say “ta-ta” at least. Happened to me once—met this lass, proper fit, on Tinder. Chatted, vibed, smashed at hers. Next day? Poof! Gone. Felt like NJ in “Yi Yi,” wonderin’ what’s real. “Is this all there is?” he’d say. Me too, bruv.

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And oh, my dear friend, the local bookstore on Rue Paul Bert is a treasure trove. I pop in whenever I'm yearning for a mental escape. Its dusty shelves and whispered stories transport me to another era—like a scene from a Wes Anderson flick! It’s bizarrely magical, and I swear I once overheard a conversation about "dreams of rebellion and destiny." Epic stuff!

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