Thursday, February 2, 2017

Whatever makes it alright

Did January even happen? I might have slept through it with my eyes open, countless bottles of Burgundy wine emptying themselves on my bedside table. I had little choice after the Christmas I had, New Year's I can't even remember. I might have woken up in a two floor apartment off Boulevard Raspail but the details are fuzzy to say the least.

I also have several messages and missed calls from mother, all of them from 24 hours between January 1st and 2nd. Needless to say I never returned them. Whether it was a nightmare or something that actually occurred, the last time I saw her she told me to stop looking for men that remind her of my father.

I can't decide if Paris is the love of my love or a whore dressed in fishnet stockings and purple bustiers. Depends on my mood I guess, only I can't remember what I've felt over the past 30 days. I don't know how much more of this I can take. Maybe I'll end up like him, tired of everything, afraid of nothing, waiting in vain for something to burst in this hummingbird heard of mine.



4 comments:

  1. Only the whore in fishnets knows what love means. Purple is the color of Queens.

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  2. Beautiful post!

    Writtenbyalice.blogspot.co.uk

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  3. Incredible Avy... I wonder how you mother thinks she has the right to say you need to stop looking for your father in men... when she seems to ignore the truth around her... xox

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  4. i've been having the strangest dream. i am Rasputin eating raspberries along Raspail. i eat as much as i want cos i have the metabolism of a hummingbird...

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