Closing in on nine..

Thought I'd put together a few of my bf's favourite things..
Drawing close to the nine's.. Can't believe it, on most days ;)


Knowing he'll love it already.. ;)

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xx 

Romance and peonies...

Some days I think I'm still a kid, trapped in some imaginary sitcom, my father always warned me about what 'FRIENDS' would do to me. He insisted I watch the news instead. I can never forget the way he'd fake-laugh when the audience on set (read laughter machine) would.

I tend to romanticize everything and figment-ize the future; what I could change, what could easily dispose of my current situation and start anew, be brand new. Be the me who is someone... else. That must sound absolutely delusional. When I wake up to another Sunday, I really want to wake up somewhere else, where everyday's a sight to take in, where having waffles soaked in nutella is not a sin and where ruins are only the good part of Grecian monuments. They say if you stand in front of the columns on an especially breezy day, the dead will tell you stories and their words will teach us the true meaning of life. Or maybe I'm romanticizing history. 
Okay, I am.


When I get married, I want peonies and candid snapshots and a first dance that's not awkward where the rest of the world just blurs away if only for a moment. I also want to wake up in Paris and go down to the cafe and sit in my regular spot and on a whim decide to hop a train to Bunol, in time for the festival. C'mon let me dream. What's wrong with a little romance?

I dare you to not love them   :)

You wanted game

Perchance,
It does not work out
And if I go the hour without you
Do not bleed for me
Do not run the streets

Don’t sprint to my doorstep
Don’t bring me flowers that wither
And gifts, I must return
But most of all, do not stain my sheets

Don’t drink from my cup
As though it be the fountain of youth
Do not call my name in waking dreams
And place a candle in the window
Or a ribbon round a tree

Preach not
About love, about affectations, about parting
And particularly, stolen youth

Seek me instead,
again and again,
in thy wilderness
I am hot and I am cold
And you know that's what you seek
You play the game
You play for game
Do not make me out to be the bitch

Seek me in thy wilderness
Against the harshest of winds
In the harvest
Breathe me in
Breathe me whole
When all else fails you
 
 
xoxo, dream a little dream,
Privy Lil' Lotus

spindling contradiction

Every waking hour

Filled with a yearning, a searching, a yelp

The dam breaks again
The floodgates of time
And time envelopes you
Nothing in the air burns, but time
Second, second, second, second,
Minute
Hour
And minute



And life is a wire
My eyes are unloved
And my heart is witness
But time looms in the air
And we spin the wheel of life and penance
Everything is turning
And time is moving along
Time is patient
And sliding along the walls


It etches
And marks days on calendars
No
On calendar
Only one, in my home
The trouble begins at loving
And cannot be shelved
Or boxed
Or sidelined
Or put out
Or bottled
It must extinguish, just as it burned the early flames
Flames of yellow
Flames of orange
Flames of blue
And now just purple


But to not know love,
Is to have never lived,
He said.


But, I’m told:
Time is a spindle,
Weaving grief,away


Time is a contradiction

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Actually, just saw the movie, The Greatest. Carrie Muligan is inspired. Sarandon is on par with Streep and Brosnan has the kindest eyes.

xoxo et al,
Privy Lil' Lotus