third grade gay

your father's high horse

my delicate, boy-ish heart ached a little bit yesterday, when i was coming back from the airport.
unfortunately, there was no time or place for film-like emotions or weepy eyes;
young, christian missionary maidens on the bus were living 'it' (gosh), reading a student magazine 'deficit'(seriously), sharing novelties about lodging an appeal, about student loans, about polish mayo being good because it's polish; they were bursting with life, giggling.

so, no classes today, today is convalescence, today is rarities and titbits, oreo, horlicks, ovaltine, cheesecake and naps and other delicacies, whole bunch of tv shows.

2.4GHz

ohmyplease, i want fresh lychee, peaches, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, blueberries, blueberries, pink lady apples, i want to prepare fruit salads, cocktails, eat lemon meringue tarts, i want to have my private space but i want to be complete, i want to be back, i want my emotional outlet not to consume the better part of me, i want structure, i want the day not to get greydarkugly already after 4pm. and oreo milkshakes/malts.
[i guess i am not so homeless after all]

between new york and dublin

the summer has ended