and, oh, they like ceremony! so glad. it's got some mysticism that's not for me, but there's also night swan who says a million beautiful things. like 'old age...the first sign of old age is all this talking when we could be doing something else.' night swan, 'an old cantina dancer with eyes like a cat,' living above a noisy bar full of drunks and loud jukebox and yelling because 'of course only that kind of woman, used to that kind of life, would tolerate such things.'
the problem with me is that no matter how old i get, every time friday rolls around, i just want to drink wine and whiskey and go stir something up. at some point, you're not supposed to want to that, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment