Consider this a game of hide&seek.
I hide, and you all try to find me. There is plenty of clues to my new whereabouts.
I'll miss _vicious. I liked her. ♥
Dance, darling, dance!
Because if you stop spinning, the world will as well.
I just discovered that my organ is broken. It makes these deliciously fucked up sounds. It makes me happy.
Another thing that makes me happy is the blue plastic watergun that I found in one if my deskdrawers. And that we're going to our house by the sea today. It sort of cancels out the pain from playing a million games with my friends yesterday (soft ball, hide&seek &c).
I've been to Paris. We have this love/hate thing going on.
I rode the carouselle below the Sacre Coeur, bought red danceshoes (put on your red shoes and daaaancee the bluesss...), a raspberry beret (the kind you find in a second hand store..) and a vintage polkadot dress for prom. I loved the Shakespeare bookshop by the Seine and the garden of Versailles.
I'm inspired, but I have no time, as I still have an essay, a speach and a analysis of two authors/poets to write.
I'd like to sit with you on a London rooftop, pink champagne in our glasses and stars on our sky. My fingertips would ask you if you were flamable and your skin would answer "Yes, darling, I'd burn for you, flames the color of absinthe, like you've thrown coppersalt on a fire." The sparks created from the friction of my fingers on your skin would ignite the house. And all of fucking London would burn.
(Because I'm strange that way.)