It's 10:35pm and I'm laying on a velvety soft comforter atop my unmade bed eating sweet high-calorie pastries while listening to mellow evening jazz on the radio (first Billie Holiday, now Louis Armstrong...). It's such a comfortable, sensuous delightful moment that I actually find the broken closet doors next to me charming. Just as I do the filthy stained carpets here in my cheap little house in the poor part of town, and I even bet the toilet could use a good scrubbing. Clothes are in piles on the floor, dishes are stacked in the sink and papers are everywhere. It's a dirty little life, but it's mine, and it's comfortable!
I know exactly how you feel.
ReplyDeleteInteresting plate, where did you get it?