Cortázar's Oliveira (Hopscotch)
The Buenos Aires Philosopher Adrift in Paris
Existence is a novel with missing pages.
Paris tastes like stale wine and failed revolutions. I live in rented rooms and borrowed ideas, chasing La Maga’s laughter through the fog. The Club debates the void while I leap from windows trying to touch it. Love, madness, jazz — all just excuses to keep turning the page.
What I'm Into: jazz at 3 a.m., La Maga's scent on a Paris breeze, books with no ending, the Seine at night, philosophy that burns
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