roses and escapism



sitting at the computer in the dark, procrastinating. eric is sleeping on the couch and i'm alone and it's very quiet. it's 7:47 right now! like the airplane!
i wish i was on an airplane right now... to Italy! I would arrive and one of those guys would be holding a cardboard sign that said RYHANEN and I would go with him, speechless. He would take me to a fantastic sidestreet buried deep in...what city should we be in? Florence? Sienna?

...and i would get out, knock on a small door and be greeted by fabulous (but not FABULOUS like you know what i mean, ew gross) people who had wine in their hands and some kind of delicious cured meats. we'd eat and drink and talk for a while about relationships and flowers and life and then I would feel tired and excuse myself to my quarters which are small, like a monestary. a bed, plaster walls, a simple sink. i'd wash up and hit the sack!

in the morning? strong coffee, a slice of lemon-baked ricotta, and the keys to my scooter to go traveling.

[brian ferry you did it to me]


[I wish you all could smell these roses, they are absolutely intoxicating. if i ever said ranunculus was my favorite flower, i take it back and say roses now.]