whispers
ill keep this blog but i guess you could say that it moved to here
whispers
ill keep this blog but i guess you could say that it moved to here
August 15, 1846
I will cover you with love when next I see you, with caresses, with ecstasy. I want to gorge you with all the joys of the flesh, so that you faint and die. I want you to be amazed by me, and to confess to yourself that you had never even dreamed of such transports… When you are old, I want you to recall those few hours, I want your dry bones to quiver with joy when you think of them.
‚Üí Gustave Flaubert, famous French writer, to his wife Louise Colet. (via seabois)
‚Üí Sonia Sanchez (via seabois)
“JIJ BENT EEN HEEL, FOUT, VENTJE!” I sang in a loud voice, waking Kotarou from his afternoon nap.
“Ian…?” He replied in a drowsy voice, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“Yes, you. (Oh-oh,oh-!!)” Pointing at him with a sassy ‘oh no you didn’t’ finger.
“…What?” Obviously, he has no idea what is going on.
I continued singing in a loud voice with sassy dance moves. ”Oh, no, gone with you-“
“I-Ian… Can you stop doing that? Please?”
“Oh boy what a big *TUUUUT* (mouth)” I finished, eventually standing in front of him with both hands placed on my hips. “Your own fault for sleeping on your own birthday, fag. The cakes are done.”
Kotarou opened and closed his mouth several times without any sound escaping his lips. Too baffled by my appearance to come up with a decent reply- there was a little too much information thrown at him. Birthday? Oh, right. Cakes- but he already told me he didn’t want anything. And most of all…
“What’s with that pose… Ian…”
