Feel A Part Of A Crazy Scene In The Street?

Jan 07, 2020

Today I’m not feeling alright; I’m not feeling that great. Love is starting to fade. I went to a lovely coffee shop in Paris’ 6th district (Bar du Marché). It’s near the prestigious Science Po school.

I sat near two girls hoping something happens. You know I need something to light my day. Every day it’s thunder but not raining in my brain.

I showed her my music blog (a girl named Prudence). She started asking me questions about the theory of the triune brain (a controversial now obsolete theory it seems). And we began to talk.

I showed her the post about the tone of my voice and how the drugs affect the quest to find a clear and honest view. But it seems it made her frightened because the next second her behavior changed and she left without a word.

Prudence in French means caution. She told me I was 25 years old, but most people give me 45 years (I’m 39 in reality). But sometimes I feel I’m 90 years old because people talk about me all over town saying it’s a shame.

Did You Watch Every Move On Her Face?

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Photo by Elina Krima on Pexels.com

Genesis summarised the issue correctly. You never know who’s looking on (a perfect body and a perfect face). The girl was pretty. Of course, that’s my point of view. A delicate face means she’s clear about her identity.

I have a friendly face, but my profile is making strange things, and I know why. Someone put a spell on me and said I had no experience. It drove me crazy as no other idea can, and I can’t behave myself now.

What a strange experience: I’m talking about adolescence. You’re looking for a stable identity and profile to maximize your chances to succeed in life.

Are You Up All Night To Get Lucky?

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Photo by Ihsan Aditya on Pexels.com

I don’t know much about raising a kid, and that might be why I don’t have children at 39 years old. But I hope one day I will get it right.

It seems I forgot to rest during the day and that’s why I’m not lucky at the moment. Thank God I didn’t forget to sleep well. But during the day, something keeps me in a state of total confusion.

It might have been an undercover agent for the blues. Or maybe a secret agent.

I think we’re all secret agents on Earth, but we don’t know who we’re working for precisely. One thing is sure, though: we work for at least two organizations like the CIA or the FBI.

For example, I know I used to work for jazz and blues. And now I also work for soul, rock, and funk. But why should I bring an alibi?

Any time Of The Year, Can You Find Thunder?

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Photo by Philippe Donn on Pexels.com

At the moment, I’m fortunate. I’m sleeping every day at Hotel Thunderania. Any time of the year, you can find it in my head and, as a result, on this music blog.

People expect help from you, but they don’t help at all.

Fifteen years ago, I solved the problem quickly by listening to this song from Sting and Clapton. My only friend is probably me. And they also wrote that, when you wake the morning in a stranger’s coat, one friendly face is all you need to see.

And that’s why I want to thank Prudence for speaking with me a little. She is an architecture student, but I didn’t get her coordinates. Maybe in a few months, she will stumble on this music blog, read this post, maybe cry a little, and contact me.

I need architecture students to take photographs or photorealistic images to illustrate this blog.

All The Small Things Can Become Big!

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

All in all, there’s one thing I recall from my childhood. Small things can become blown out of proportion like that one time where I stumbled upon a naked woman taking a bath because she forgot to lock the door.

Now I’m in a coma because of this dirty love.

If I want to succeed in life, I have to remain average and have a little luck. At least, that’s what the game of poker teaches us.

One lesson from my driving passion is that there’s no crisis: one small moment of vague melancholia, and you can end up killing yourself and killing someone else.

Before I accuse Prudence of letting me down, I should take a look at myself. With all the drugs I do (strictly legal drugs I must confess), don’t be shocked by the tone of my voice.

Is there a drug for your condition? Is there sweetness in the taste? You and I happen to be a part of this crazy scene: an accountant that became crazy and mad. But if you made yourself, you should be fine.

Nicolas Sursock

Nicolas is a musician. His work now focuses on digesting 10000 songs of jazz, blues, soul, rock, funk and electronic. He plays the guitar if he's not blogging!

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