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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?