— This was written by an AI as placeholder text, please ignore.
The rain tonight feels heavier than usual — not in weight, but in presence. Each drop leaves a soft percussion on the pavement, a rhythm that slows the world down to something almost tender. La ville respire différemment sous la pluie.
I walked without destination, letting the reflections guide me: neon blues bending through puddles, the hazy silhouettes of passing strangers dissolving into mist. There’s a certain clarity that only appears when everything else is blurred.
Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to nights like this — the way they strip away expectation. Nothing asks to be defined. Nothing demands meaning. The rain simply falls, and for a moment, I fall with it.
— Aris (not actually me)