Its a day or two after the terrestrial celebration of Christ’s birthday … seriously I don’t get this idea of celebrating a non-confirmed event of somebody made famous.
O please don’t misconstrue me darlings, I’m just a friggin’ thought for now, and no, you’re not the mind yet! Bare with darlings, I fear this is going to be a long write — a verbal release therapy!
Thank heavens for cigars and cigarettes — I think these were invented by thinkers, and dreamers. Have you seen people waking up from sleep reaching for anything other than their ciggies? Sure nymphs reach out for anything cylindrical or round so long as they can blow it to their hearts’ content!
Why do you think pole dancing was invented?
Well you’re either a drinker, a smoker or an addict. Love is purely alien, and you need to get real with it — you rise in It, and you don’t fall for the looks, the money, the car or the package. Although these days, those seem to make up for the lack of personality or some intelligence!
Love is an in-thing. Everything else has to do with munching. My aren’t we a hungry lot! We seem to be hungry for something — food, attention, food, attention!
I’ve yet to make a resolution.
You know the list of what one needs to achieve as if living in a fluid imagery isn’t concrete enough we have to have a list to remind us what to do so that when we get to eventually doing it, we can gloat about it at tea parties and make conversation with people whom we don’t give two hoots anyway and say, we’re actually doers instead of just … listers.
Du-h, can we like get real here for a mo’
And thinking about that, blogging comes to mind
What is this thing about blogging? You either are an amateur writer or a published amateur writer. One is egad, never a blogger. Blogger sounds hugely like a wrongly parked car. Don’t get me wrong, but really surely there’s a better word.
“What do you do for a living?”
“I blog, I’m a blogger”
“What do you blog about?”
“Fashion! I’m a fashionista”
No seriously?!? Do we see a trend here? Every writer is deprived of something. Let me see what I’m deprived of. O you can already tell? Hit the comment box O I dare you! Why is there a need to replace the verb with something mindless.
« L’hypothèse de la Connaissance est le diable » — AainaA-Ridtz A R
I’m starting 2014, as I jot these down … o gawd please rain or unleash some storms. I’m missing the cold. It’s too friggin’ warm here, in Asia.
The Déclaration de l’Indépendance {reads rather chic doesn’t it? … and this is one of the reasons why you need to learn French!}
— work out like hell just froze. Beauty is sciolistic. No burn, no gain!
— behave shallow, don’t think too much.
— Find a decent guy who wants to be with me, that can make me laugh, and curl up with – why some women think I’m a slut is beyond any reasoning {Bitches! They have more issues than Vogue!}
—
— read good books … Kâmasûtra is, I’ve been informed a gymnast’s manual of sorts
— jot down thoughts, like get a friggin moleskine instead of touch typing on the iPad – I write mind stuff don’t I?
— learn a terrestrial language. Hebrew?
—
— learn a musical instrument. Cello or violin?
— make love or just touch kiss touch hug a stranger in case there’s no decent guy
— don’t look back. So not worth it unless you’re writing a sequel
—
— compose or start painting again
— think blond, but misbehave brunette!
— return to Paris, and enjoy tongue wrestling
—
— listen to really good music like Chris Rea and dance, or work out
— communicate more with the camera
— fully enjoy the remaining breaths
—
— just be. I’ve decided the rest can be humans if they want to. I am not suicidal enough!
— travel around the world, and create the change. O the storms will be a great smokescreen. No point having allies right?
— be less nice. Nasty is a good word. Get those handcuffs, whips & stilettos!!
When the funds get through for the Foundation, maybe in the next thousand years or when the world has cracked into two!
— Register the Foundation in what’s left of Paris & Geneva
— establish the HQ in what’s left of Paris and Penang
— Get a good pair of Nike
— work to heal or to fix
I friggin’ love this lifetime!
