In any case, whether you’re a veteran expatriate of Paris, if you’ve only toyed with fantasies of skipping stones along the Canal St. Martin, or you’re Kanye West extolling the virtues of Paris’ apparent no bullshit culture, it’s important to realize that you’re fetishizing an unattainable dream. Downer? Perhaps. But it needn’t be. Sometimes dreams are just what we need. Reality can be a lovely place, but for some, and I count myself among them, a corrupted dream is better than no dream at all.
Paris, a place to dream false dreams.