Friday, May 20, 2022

Lutetia

He comes to my room the day after, it should be too easy but I really felt the need to have him there.

I ask him what to wear and he picks out the perfect dress: short and black from Givenchy, Tisci's masterpiece in the softest of satins. We empty the bar at Jos├ęphine, then head for Saint Germain in search of a place to call home. 

I haven't felt the need to watch the sun come up this strong since I left LA for what feels like a lifetime ago.

Monday, February 28, 2022

We are a storm

I don't know who spots who first. I'm in black from Lanvin, he sits at the table next to me, writing something with a glittery tourist shop ball-point pen on ivory paper. By the sheer focus I can tell it matters to him.

"What are you writing" I ask as he looks up for a fraction of a second, disturbed by a waiter putting down drinks.

"I'm not sure", he replies, "but I know how it's going to end."

"How can you know that?"

"Because it's all true."

I let the smoke from my cigarett rise slowly towards the blackening Paris skies, it's getting late but this night was clearly made for conversations over countless glasses of Burgundy wine.

"I'm Avy", I say, "nice to meet you."


Friday, November 13, 2020

Fuck you 2020

Another year that never happened, seems like the story of my life. You would think that growing older would give some insights but nothing ever changes for me. Stuck in the loop of pointless existence and never learing anything I didn't already know At least that's what it feels like but maybe I'm wrong again. Please keep reminding me of the reasons to keep on going.

Thursday, May 16, 2019

Unchained melodies

I never met Anna Sorokin in person, but I know that Chloe did. We haven't really talked about it, she just mentioned it casually, in passing, like one of those pointless anecdotes you sometimes bring up only to break the silence.

Not the we ever needed it, of course. She was more than a friend to me, more like a sister or a lover, and maybe she still is although we haven't spoken or met in years. Time fades away so slowly and yet so quickly, as if to remind us of things we would prefer to forget.

I do it all the time but then something always happens to remind me, and I remember why I still have to do this, why I still need to stay on this path I've chosen, right or wrong, for better or for worse. There are times when it's felt like nothing but a waste of breath, but it always somehow comes back to this.

Tuesday, March 19, 2019

Pink like my heart

Every guy I ever met more than twice has insisted on buying me underwear. It started when I was 14 in LA and made a cute but all too fragile college freshman get me and Chloe alcohol. I knew he was in love with me but finally had to end it when he sent me a pair of stay-ups in the mail, with a handwritten note I've tried to forget ever since.

Some have better taste than others, but whatever they buy says something important about their personalities:

  • Anything from a generic brand: you will never end up writing a novel/become an actor like you say you want
  • Just a bra: you pretend like you know me just to get close enough to fuck me
  • A whole set: too pretentious for your own good
I've always preferred a pair of panties. It tells me you're honest about your intentions, and if you pick the right ones I might even consider letting you see me in them.

Pictured: the pair a friend of a friend discretely slipped into my coat pocket after dinner last night.

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