i thought my days of writing is over.
thus tell me father, how do you stop one from doing what one loves?

i saw the fattest ear i have ever seen.
it was as thick as my little finger -just, full of fat.
i cant help but to have dirty thoughts,
imagining what nibbling his ears would taste like..
i prefers my beef sausages.

today, i am very grateful with what i have.

i stopped looking at his ears when he started giving me a discomfort glare.
so i looked up, there was the golden moon.. hanging gracefully by gravity.

it illuminates more gold than its usual golden palette.
showing off the trapped globalized imaginary bunny even more..
tonight my moon looks like my newly exchanged halogen bathroom lights;
from my imaginary cropped side view, with such exuberant glare upwards instead of all around it.

funny sky.

i texted my lover wishing he was with me..
just to do some eye check if he notice my moon's glory.

then i stepped into the shop i always try to escape from. it spelled s-e-p-h-o-r-a.
its hedonist heaven, stinks of marketing traps. tonight i let myself be victimized, my moon is my witness, may God forgive.
sorry father -i spent the money that i dont have but i know this is the only time i have to mix my colours.
i did it not without a fight tho! i was such a butch in picking my colours, even the gay attendant loves me (card). oops!

another photo shoot is a must.

i refrained myself from getting foundation for him.
will he still be my angel when i dressed him evil?

i walked up my Parisian-life refuge, l'incroyable magazine de british' Virgin.. (slap my grammar please -yourself!)
searching for that "readable" french novel which has seemed to have grown to a thickness i cant be bovvered.
until later on, my card is rejected. ouch! i feel french banks holds a satire humor in doing.. well, banking.
my only option is to walk out and get some cash at the nearest cashpoint. hello card ?! are you ?!?

my 12 hours fully stood feet can really NOT be bovvered.

he said he would've come with me had he not been made PPLN.
euff. how my feet are missing his card tonight.

an awkward family sat opposite me on my metro way back.
a boy was particularly awkward to offer an empty seat, to a father who then hesitantly sat next to the boy. so awkward that i wonder if the boy is his son or nephew -there are two mothers and two sons, you see. but whatever, as they got off at a station, i discovered that awkward boy looked like his torso been sucked up to his shoulder. an astonishingly handsome, 21st century, vertically erected, horizontally balanced, version of Quasimodo.

Levez vouz Monsieur Hugo, Quasimodo a demenagé à La Tour Eiffel!

As i reached the front gate:
my feet are swollen, my bones are rattling, my card has been invalidated, my hand is happily carrying a dreadful shopping bag of hedonist goodies, my hunger has surprisingly diminished into tomorrow's gastric and my eyes are sore from missing him..

i'd trade off my entire night, to watch his face glow when asked, "do you l.... ?"
it is priceless, comme d'habitude.




and this note wouldn't even exists..............