aviation
chocolate
perfume
cigarettes
(...Gainsbourg, C.)
----
How's this for a nighttime intermission? Due to an elongated afternoon nap, the hour is late latelate and I am awake as the fakey owl gazing into outerspace on my mantel. Fooling myself into tiredless is pointless, maybe I will slide into a hot bath instead? I kind of feel like brewing some tea and taking myself on a walk through blackened streets; rain-streaked pavement. I'd arrange my body, askew, against the watery grass and pull the sharp air into my lungs in greedy sips. The night air, espeically in autumn, is always the best air. It makes me feel as if nothing could ever touch me or hurt me or make me feel any less alive. Energy winding like thin unseen ropes against my skin; nourishment significant only to myself. Like absinthe coating my throat, except imagined not real.
Here is a reel for the eyes, miscellaneous as heck, from the past few days:
(l'apartment)
(falafel place, breakfast in the late afternoon light)
(new roommate, trish. babe.)
--photo cred, all, attributed to a mysterious photographer.
Eyes wide shut,
RB
No comments:
Post a Comment