He is always there. But for how long?
Her Vespa is parked downstairs from me.
I thought to puncture tires or disassemble it, but I'm sure it does not prevent him from one day or another if he so decides.
And then hack his Vespa might have consequences even as to hasten his departure.
I'd rather be nice for now.
Charles I called yesterday. He seems to go well. He is always with her boyfriend effeminate. It irritates me
least at first. Now when it gets too painful, but I've had time to serve or do anything for the show, I feel two arms hold me.
Sometimes at night I wake up with nausea. So I turn on the light and I am recovering. I look into the void without turning on the music. I expect it to pass, I fell asleep again.
Most of the time, it is by this that I'm hungry. I'm never really sick, but I often nausea. Because everything and anything. A smell, a picture, mouthful of too much, a wrong word. The outside world raises the dislike me.
often, sometimes several times a day, I have a headache. A terrible pain, just one side of my brain. It takes me for no reason and there is nothing to do. Aspirin was never because of me, and I do not want to try the drug overdose.
I love sex with him. This is no-brainer, no problems. He does not ask questions. He did not ask me any questions. There is love.
Like when we talk about a cake made with love ... It is sex with love. To make it beautiful and good, we feel that the heart has to work. For what it's always more fun like that right?
Smile! No one cares how you feel ... Smile!
The problem is Charles. My problem. It has always been done. Its damn big eyes, her smile damn. I hate it. Voila. As it is clear. Lying on the paper. I hate him and his damn indecision, he and his questions. I do not like to take the lead. I prefer when it's easy, when you let go do what we want. But no. All this time to give confidence to either one that benefits. Damn. So much love wasted. Good to throw away. Never used. The gives me is in the air. It irritates me. It makes me not bad, it annoys me. Makes me want to break things, but I do not. I never do. I'm not the one who gets angry. I have no right. I'm the one who is calm and smiling, listening and remaining out conflict. I get angry when others are shocked. How can I have the audacity to get angry? It's not my place, it's not my role ! Shakespeare was right. Quite a poor guy that again.
He and Lewis Carroll, they have a good laugh from up there! If there is one up there ...
He said there is one ... He said I should try to believe in something, not necessarily God, but something. Believing in nothing is worse than death.
I think I like Charles.
I think I'm done.
I think he is an angel.
I think I'm a bit lost.
He says He loves me, He is there for me. What do you say to that? We do not reject someone's love is immoral. One should always be happy that someone shows us his love. What are we to despise such a gift of oneself ... It is something so rare that the depreciated.
He is fucking too hot to do anything. The windows open wide do not go out into the heat but are the flies.
I do not know if he was alive John Keats was a great fly-killer, but his poems and my poems are the most effective weapons.
Keats, the killer Fly. Yeats, the killer of neurons. I listen to the fucking Morrisey and play Wilde. Charles
he cares for the warmth of May. His cat died, he has other things to think about.
It's too hot to make love. We're too young to Scrabble. Then there remains only the English literature.
I have a headache. And the heat does not disappear. I felt like I was debating in hot air. I'm half naked and I necrosis. Perhaps with a little luck I'll get gangrene. And malaria, with all the mosquitoes which swarmed under the sun.
Sun SHIT! I
stamps for migraine. Migraine, here are a good thing for chicks. One more proof that I'm a loser is. Not bloody have a disease a little bit cool, no, I have a headache. The postmark is half the size of my little finger nail. And I can not swallow this kind of stuff. Aspégique but it makes me any more. So I had to "Bi-profen. C'te crazy thing. Half a stamp at a time, and 12 hours between each shot, otherwise you can make an overdose ... Do not give it to suicidal!
Fortunately I breathe the joy of living.
It gives me a small tin of tuna and fork. He says the fish is full of protein, and it's good for the head. Failing to take the pills, I can do that ...
The fishing industry is going to put the pharmaceutical industry in disarray. Stock crash, suicide pharmacists, fishmongers financial moguls.
The pain is gone thanks to a can of tuna. That's the placebo effect.
As my friend would say Lucy "either you eat tuna, or you blow your brains with the box. Success guaranteed in both cases, life expectancy is just longer with the first proposal "...
I'm tired. I'm going to sleep. He is in bed in the middle of the mattress, naked. I look at her tattoo and I undress. He sleeps. I lie down beside him and take him a little in my arms to make room on the mattress. Like when he uses against me at night and that he rubbed his face against my skin. Makes me feel like alive and to have something that has to be someone that matters. Like her skin, she is sweet. Pale. I stroked her back. He wakes up, asks me if I want to make love. Yes.
After we go to tea. It is already four hours ...
Like his questions. Do I want to make love, eat pizza, watch TV, make me oral sex, learn polo on elephant or admire punctured and stuffed critters in a documentary on a cable channel. What is my favorite color is what I'm doing well, for real, is what I do not have a headache, is that okay, for real is what I am tired, is what I want a hug, is what I do not want to go into the garden with him to make a bouquet of flowers ...
Est ce que tout va bien ? Pour de vrai ?
