it is amazing, how rare i have my girly days.
if the moon alines damn right, maybe twice a year is allowed.
the days, when i can forget about bruises, endless numbers,
towels, soaked in blood and almost gone vertebral column.
when i can actually get up in the morning, take an early shower,
go to my favorite restaurant for lunch (they start hastling, saying
something about 'SEO came, is something wrong with this lettuce?
it colors strange.. i do not know, try to eat a little? maybe its all right')
and enjoy my Mexican burger with mojito (what is wrong with drinking
at 12 am??) and cup of coffee, which tastes a little bitter and nice.
then you still have a deal to make and your partner rolls his eyes up
and do not recognize you, because you wear a damn pink angora on.
so you have to swallow your 'it is my girly day today, ain't you aware?'
and slowly roll your sleeve up to show him the end of your ink to prove.
what is wrong with wear pink, anyway?
it is so rare, i can spend two hours in a mall (like the humans do)
and just wander around, trying on the things, i like, chatting with
young dull consultants and buy the staff, that i fell in love with.
only Dior X-mas items i never miss.
hustle myself like hell to get in line to get those beauties.
i have no doubts that my nose will heal itself to a proper form.
yet, it is nice to think that a good cosme you have, will just do.
and then you are back to monday's.
and it is never dawn again.
but that is okay.
i know i am never to get out of this.