Bound to…
Sex in the stomach, train ride terrified, smelly feet, hot, sweaty, tired, behind deadlines. This is how I pack. On the run again. I love it. I hate it. I am it. Drink. Shower. Drink. Peaches, Fatherfucker. Telephone. One last post. Wait, you’ll be Internet ridden there. Yeah, but it’s not the same, is it? One last text. Little does he know: “Fell in love only with boys, u have enough shoes.” meaning “Don’t fall in love with shoes, you have too many”. I have managed to forget his incredibly looooooong eye lashes. Have you ever seen a man entirely made of eye lashes? That’s him. I might decide to teach him English. That is a cute thought to end the “re-install” day. Re-install software, reinstate Internet, reinstate victim rights. I might have made someone happy today. I know I did. OK, one last sip. Gin and tonic rules. Now you are going to miss that train…
