Firstly, music from my favorite boy in the world. My muse, my stars and moon: La douleur exquise.
I grow my own garden and hold my own hand,
I know where I stand and I’ll know where I’ll land
when I jump or I scram.
In the moonlight I prowl and I hunt and I reap,
I’m never asleep
and I’m always awake.
What I think I will make
like a pie and I’m baked.
Right before midnight on June 05:
I don’t know if I’m in love with you, but I certainly feel passionate again. I get all those other guys now. The Greeks would’ve loved you. You’d be their muse.