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About Strasbourg

But real talk, it’s heavy. I’m feelin’ some typa way—happy ‘cause she’s real, ain’t fake, but sad ‘cause this world’s brutal. I’m ramblin’, brain’s a mess, like, why’m I even here? To understand? To judge? Nah, I ain’t judgin’, I’m just seein’. “There’s a whole ocean of oil under our feet!”—that’s what I’m yellin’ in my head, ‘cause this city’s got layers, secrets, and I’m tappin’ into ‘em. Fun fact, tho—did ya know some old-school brothels had secret tunnels? Like, for politicians to sneak out? That’s some 007 shit, man, I’m geeked thinkin’ ‘bout it.

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So, I’m fuming now, right? I decide to walk it off. I head over to the Canal Royal. It’s beautiful, with all those colorful houses lining the water. I’m trying to chill, but I can’t shake off that stupid bird. I sit on a bench, and this guy next to me starts talking about the best spots for seafood. He’s raving about the tielle, this local dish. I’m like, “Dude, I just lost my breakfast to a feathered thief!”

Rise of Lavagirl, Maku gifts a decade on