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Have you ever smelled blue tears?

London felt different back then. Empty. Still. Almost unreal.

I remember those long walks along the Thames… no tourists, no noise—just the quiet echo of my own steps. Green plane trees arching above me like a shelter, and the strange feeling that I had stepped into another world. Like a scene from Vanilla Sky— familiar, yet completely untouched.

There was beauty in it, but also a quiet loneliness. A vast city, suddenly too big, too silent. I would walk for hours, holding something inside I could barely name.

That’s how Riverwalk was born.

A scent that feels cool, almost distant at first— bitter-green, sharp like the air by the river— but with a softness underneath. A fragile, human warmth. Like tears you don’t let fall.

Not sweet. Not comforting. But real.

Want to know how my tears smell?