SolitudeFrolicking across make-believe meadows with the favourite people, dressing up, going to the esplanade for a lovely gig by any of the favourite musicians (Stars, Kings of Convenience, The Boy Least Likely To, or Belle & Seb would be more than perfect), pigging out at Glutton's Bay thereafter and then talking and talking and talking about the most inane things ever, like there's no deadline, no pugnacious dictators, no pretension, no tension to worry about. All we'll have to work at is being happy and prancing and twirling like fairies. Simple, really.
Meanwhile, the earth says hello for more than the millionth time already. Boo, fineee.
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THIS IS INSANE. I AM INSANELY STRESSED & SICKENED. WHERE HAS THE ONCE-UPON-A-TIME-THRIVING BRILLIANCE OF MY MIND DISSIPATED TO? AHHH. I'm really sick of hedonism, pride and more hedonism! I want to do so many things, I want to do more than make the most out of the experience simply for memyselfandI…
