some cities

Christmas without Ryan.

I want to come back the color of cafe au lait, I want to be fierce and butter my hair like my ancestors, the Gauls. My kingdom will be the beach and a bottle of rum. I will be a whirlwind of smoke and air and liquor, I will be wild. In the sense that animals are wild, not angsty twenty somethings with nothing better to do.

The tropics. J'en ai trop!