Rainy days

Days like these...

I feel like putting on a dress from the 1940's; curling my hair; pinning it; with red lipstick; sitting in a tranced white room, drinking red wine and writing poetry.

i'll move closer to my piano and play a sad song of deep love and heartbreak from this poor make-believe girl. eat chocolate. and more wine. making my lips in the shape of a small 'o' to seem more sad, seductive or proper. and of course, i'll be as articulate as porrible, pretending there is someone there to notice.

grab a few blankets.
curl up in my chair.
hot coffee now.
don't 'cha think the rain drops falling on the windowsill are some sort of a cliche'?
sounds like a song.

i want to be kissed in the rain.

i'm quite ready to be painted, as if i was back in the old french royalty.

"andrea mademoiselle, s'il vous plaît soyez prudent de ne pas bouger. vous drap votre jambe dans le fauteuil de ce genre, s'il vous plaît?"

"oui monsieur, bien sûr."

rainy days are the best to live in.

i'm in a sort of sane insanity. only the rain makes this possible.
and more yet, romantic. i feel like i could fit quite perfectly in a french society.

Some sort of an intense passion as it bangs down on the roof.

I'm perfectly content. I'll grab Anthony Trollope's: "The way we live now" and devour it.

Cheers to the masterpiece.

Je voudrais pouvoir dire ce que je veux dire clair et évident. Rien ne dure, c'est peut-être mieux ainsi.

Come along, I'll hold you tight. Better be a good boy and not fidget too too much.

Yes? Oh, It's not something i'd encourage, rather just selfishness at it's greatest.

You shouldn't trust me.

I've always wanted balloons; in my own perfect world i'll be able to own a tree that grows balloons, excessively.

I went to our lake today. Where did you go? Maybe I left too fast to see you? It was in pursuit of coffee, please don't judge me too hard.
Why can't I ever get what I want to say out of my own head.
It's like they're all stuck up there, and only come out through the romantic intriguing nature of my piano keys.

Romantic? They thunder and bang.

Let me out! I'm the music's slave till you know what i'm trying to say.

Oops.

The road ends here.
This makes me slightly anxious.

I hope you don't breath too fast, that wouldn't be helpful.

kiss me quick.
falling...
okay, i'll stop.