love’s going out of fashion

you once wanted to have

the most spiritual

intimate

pleasurable

mind-blowing

door opening

passionate

tantric sex

but we didn't really know how

so we went to bed instead

zzzz

something i remember from an anais nin short story

in the medieval times, a crusader who was leaving

gave the key of his wife’s chastity belt to his best friend

they took a selfie together and smoked a cigarette

half an hour later, his best friend sent him a whatsapp message

‘dude

this is not the right key’

how to win friends and influence people at work (plus the colors I mentally associate with the days of the week)

how are you doing

like a monday

[red]

how are you doing

oh well like a thursday

[yellow]

how are you doing

halfway there you know it’s wednesday

[green]

how are you doing

it gets better on thursdays

[orange]

how are you doing

doing good, friday it is

[blue]

[and if you really want to know

saturday is brown

and sunday is white]

even the sea sometimes has trouble being blue

Hans Christian Andersen, nineteenth century Danish author of fairy tales such as The Little Mermaid, The Ugly Duckling and The Snow Queen, feared being buried alive and always let a note by the side of his bed at night that read:

‘I’m not dead, I’m only sleeping’

But the real danger lied bellow: in the spring of 1872, Hans Christian Andersen fell out of bed, was severely hurt and never fully recovered.

the last supper (pleading al dente pasta recipe)

you could have boiled water in a large pot and added salt

it would have been nice if you had added pasta when water was at a hard boil

you could simply have turned off the heat, removed the pan from burner and placed a lid on the pot

then you could just have set timer for 15 minutes (duration might vary, please refer to the instructions on the pasta box)

once 15 minutes would have been reached, it wouldn’t have been too difficult to drain off the water

every adult dog growls barks eats (with a few changes)

when i was a child, i used to fall asleep at night looking toward the bedroom’s door

i thought that if a burglar or somebody was about to murder me during my sleep, at least i could see him/her/it coming

nowadays i would prefer not to

Autumnal evening (smile please)

I was quietly reading Jean Rhys’ unfinished autobiography in my dirty bathroom when my cat suddenly awoke in the living room.

She started meowing frenetically. All kinds of meows, punctuated by dozens of question marks: ?????? ???  like a child waking up from a nightmare and feeling abandoned at home.

She proceeded to move her meowing symphony closer to me, she entered the bathroom, put one paw against the bathtube, blinked her eyes and said:

‘i repent openly, i did not open my agenda this week and i just realized that i forgot the memorable 26th of October 1985. I blame myself for this thoughtlessness but to me days all look alike  and i’m sometimes trying to find out which day it is. So please accept, even a few days late, that i wish you from the bottom of my heart: 

happy birthday’