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prêt à porter
Pointe du Cap Martin
Arrogantly fitting to my new movie star look, she’s ready to take me to the next level of early death fame demonstrated by the never-again drinking water, wine pouring as unprotected sex, platonic forms of moving on to the next phases of life-goals-pleasures, I got choked by an olive found in my French-Italian Margarita glass, I guess I forgot once more the essence of effort, to live with less and appreciate the dirt road leading to a vacuum of philosophy.
Soley in retrospect, paid its bruises, not by Safra family rich cousins who bought the fast car we accidentally stole from the caveman that anyways refused and took the longer path to the Alps, to look for a hard-won-lady-bird.
Central Africa, 04:25 breath-hold freestyle writing,
one day will be terribly laguhed at.
But not the ideas that grew out of a difficult moment.
Just too many moments, to let an idea esacape.
Like the pushed to the wall me, which died and reborn in order to survive, and thrive beyond the contemplation of truth, of what the fuck is possible, I decide.
Day one.
F
u
c
k
yeah.
My new me, is finally ready.
Unapologetically.
