Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Rive Gauche

I let him fuck me occasionally as long as I can pretend like his hands are someone else's or even my own. Also, he brings me opium in little brown paper bags and lets me smoke it in bed afterwards. She sits quietly on a chair in the corner of the room the whole time, watching, legs crossed, stripes of raven hair covering much of that pretty face of hers.

The past three months feel both like an instant and a lifetime, I can't decide which is better or worse. I promised myself I'd go back to LA in August but I seem unable to let go of anything these days. I've done it before, to everyone I ever loved, even the ones that ended up leaving me. Everyone except my father of course.

I'll have dinner on the balcony tonight, if you can call red wine and quail eggs dinner. He brought me those too, along with the opium, said I reminded him too much of Brideshead Revisited. It was the sweetest thing I've heard all summer. 


  1. Is it a good time to be in the U.S.? Uncle Sam doesn't even bring quail eggs and he judges people who smoke opium.

  2. Going back to LA might be just what you need to change your life up... besides there's always Paris later if you want to go back.... xox

  3. I think we feel the need to hide underneath change to save ourselves at times.
    I do that too, without second guessing myself. Then one day when it seems digest worthy I go and finish what's left.

    I hope you find the courage to do whatever it is, that it takes.

  4. it's fun but you gotta watch out not to set the bag alight. that happened to me, i set my brown bag on fire when i was opiuming.

    come back to LA! Cali is boring without you :)

  5. So beautiful!!

  6. I almost jacked off to this post. But the quail eggs ruined it. Seriously, a very pretentious touch that tips this otherwise engaging literary fantasia into the realm of the twee and preposterous.

    Professor Scott's grade = B-