Hurtin' everything you see.

#26. The Seeds - I can't seem to make you mine.

I wonder where my inspiration has gone these weeks. Probably in the amount of work I have and the little time I have though.

Paris by night, in black and white. More black than white. I still have troubles understanding this city, it has such a strong personality that it sort of builds an intense relationship with you. You love it and you hate it but you don't know why, you spend your life wanting to leave it but you always come back. It's multiple, it's full of contradictions. It's sad but it full of joy at the same time. It's safe but it's dangerous. It's pretty but it's ugly. It's rich but it's poor. It's so big but it's so small. It's proud of its past, denying its present and but even considering its future. It eats you up, takes all your energy from you ... A friend read somewhere that they say Paris is the only city where it's okay to be sad.

And yet, I feel good for the first time in three years, maybe because I left it for so long and was ready to come back. I feel like, little by little, I am beginning to understand it, to make it mine, to connect all the little places with each other, to fill up the blanks on the map. I still hate it some days, but less than before.

And I walk, I walk, I walk around its tiny streets.