dancing to 1968 psychadelic hits under the half moon

went to Philipi farm to see the baby tomatos and the mint. And so many other things. The caretaker gave me figs. I ate them on the spot.

sun down down down down. Down.

He sprayed the ants with bug spray. Said it can’t be helped.

somebody just threw a rose out their car window as they drove by.

spa, gym, squash, fun with the huge huuuge waves, the octopus is now getting done on the hot coals and the day is not even half done.

it is become clear, beyond doubt, that I came to this windy island to come upon this book, sitting crisp and unread on a shelf, on a day that everyone at home was away and I, having been left on my own devices, lead myself to it.

“The Road Less Travelled” by M. Scott Peck, M.D.

to spend the day alone at home, not seeing anyone (but the gardener) was heavenly, on this hysteric island. people people people people people everywhere.

requested a lift back to the little white stone house on top of the hill, while the rest drove off for more drunken screetching. finally a few silent minutes to myself. this place is exhausting. I’m 67 years old you know.

Cette beauté, partout où tu regard, je voudrais pouvoir partager tous, avec toi.

Hello Mykonos. Fresh cool wind.

[clickables]

Pellah-Hornah feels positively a goddess amongst her adoring green fans.

[click]

we do what we must,
we go by any way we can,
we all want to be good;
and we all want to prosper.

devenir:
becoming

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LHDQWJvftk4

There is a centuries old, dead tree, near here.

Le. petit. train.
S’en va dans la campagne
Va et vient
Poursuit son chemin
Ser-pen-tin
De bois et de feraille
Rouille et vert de gris
Sous la pluieee

This head doctor had nothing better to offer, than to prescribe 4 types of dahls.

My analyst, um… ok psychiatrist, says I have a lot of anger inside of me. The true genius that he is.
Anger or not, I require a fork, fucktard.

…Take a girl like that
and put her in a natural setting,
like a.. cafe for example.

Along comes the boy and he’s looking for trouble
with a girl, like that
with a girl, like that

Who knows what they’ll decide to do?
Who knows what they’ll get up to?
I’d love to know,

wouldn’t you?..

here comes the rain again
falling on my head like a memory
falling on my head like a new emoSHON

let’s dance, the way we do.

A month ago, I plucked out of my beloved Lilac plant, a little weed that had rudely taken residence in there, eating away the goodness that was meant for another. I always feel rotten to destroy these little creatures and often, I put them in their own jars or toy pots. They have as much right to live as normal plants. This one weed, I put into a old perfume bottle and in the month that went by, it seemed that it liked living there and grew and grew. Today, it sprouted its first little flowers. They’re yellow and white but you can’t see that, because this is a monochrome diary of a monochromatic life. Happy little weed.

hi cutie
ah, look at you, looking better than ever. what’s your secret?
let’s do brunch soon.
call me?

there. now ring the bell.

10:02:58am #1 drops by for a look.
10:20:58am #2 also takes a little peek.
shortly thereafter, #1 and #2 engage in brief discussions.

a cold venti iced starbucks coffee, one of their very freshly done low fat blueberry muffins, a tall glass of chilled water, a nice firmly rolled up old holdborn cig and a tiny pink item. briefly, there layed ahead of me the makings of a pleasant 9 minutes.

Onze minutes plus tard,

lamenting on the unfortunate fact, that QuickTime messages-in-the-bottle cannot be popped open on the iPhone.

oh look, there’s a couple kissing a few meters away from me, under the scorching late noon sun. They have the same kind of hair as each other, but different sunglasses.

The basement underneath our beach house is a vast labyrinth, like a secret tomb.