Une nouveau génération perdue (Parisian Tales) by @PoetWho

And then the sun had gone. It was the same Paris I'd grown accustomed to... the rain on the green busses - the windows all closed up. With the rain gone and no raindrops to reflect off on, the task has been given to my stylish Parisian shoes.

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Certainly someone was sleeping, but I was immersed in the night. Searching the boulevards to capture moments on digital film. I've only been here four days, yet it clung to me... but not like a mother or a prostitute from Pigelle. (Paris' Red Light District)

For a person like me who tells stories through images, the Paris lights or lumiere's are absolutely necessary. I didn't want to tell the story through the eyes of a tourist, but instead through my senses. The caffe's; the people smiling and laughing in the alleys and on the subway. I saw many things, but never had the fear at any point that the streets would be too busy because of the numerous lines to get into museums, monuments, or the famous Shakespeare and co. But surely, the thing I found most interesting was the setting and the look of everything. It was different from absorbing the people and all of the other fun things happening. 

It always amazes me... although I have seen these streets before the places had become the shadow of another trip. Paris has always fascinated me because it doesn't need anything real or useful. Around me there was "the best of everything, and the best of nothing". At the end of the day, Paris is an old song that plays every day. It is the bird has no need to fly, yet does so anyway.

Written & Photos by @PoetWho

Translated by @Its_Marco_Polo