trip. no 2. part 1

christ the baking never stopped. enough to drive a woman anorexic. did i hear beetroot anyone?


jesus neither did the eating....

trip no. 1

depeche maude


no sausage shaped dog. just 3 of my favourite girls and a big concert. two of us sober. against our better judgement

after two weeks of sloth, what better than to wrap an idyll than eschew company and subject oneself to 9 hours of.................

BLEAK HOUSE

``With her air of superiority, and power, and fascination, and I know not what, she seemed to regard Ada and me as little more than children. So, as she slightly laughed and afterwards sat looking at the rain, she was as self-possessed and as free to occupy herself with her own thoughts as if she had been alone.''

{lady vestibule aka top torry tosh totty, i think lady dedlock should nudge a notch or too in our ever-evolving list of great tragic heroines, no?}

set myself to humbly resume blogging duties after recovering from anaphylactic shock prompted by thousands of bills, fines, departing flatmates, am empty oddone and la tiz, striking again, with the wrath of the almighty cow.

still recovering

from the mythical figures. artemis riding a horse. the centaurs. the unclenched fists reaching out to me. the great big skyscraper suspended mid-air. the bugs i rolled. the tentacles. the dead mutilated calf strapped onto michael. the space oddity.

i called for ground control. i was major tom

adriana calcanhotto, rome, auditorium 21:00 p.m.

came back for her. totally worth it. she made me tremble. she made me sigh. she made me cry. she reminded me of a time long gone that i won't ever get back. she made me think of love in all its shades and complexities. she made me feel good and bad. and all that. she made me regret it all and nothing at all.

entre por essa porta agora
E diga que me adora
Você tem meia hora
P'ra mudar a minha vida