i make myself physically ill. i never thought i could really proclaim this with such gusto, but motherfuck if it ain't true. for example-- yesterday was so downright rotten and terrible (because of my shit actions) that when i arrived at the juliette & the licks show at el corazon, i commenced puking repetitively in the goddamn bathroom for the
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They say the greatest art is borne of pain, and though I wish with every fibre that you weren't suffering at all, your writing, as always, is impeccable. I will call you on Thursday to see 'bout details for the weekend... can't wait for you to be here! I promise I'll make it to Seattle soonish to celebrate you and the rest (but not Livia and her evil particles :() as soon as possible.
Con todo mi amor
Com tudo o meu amor
Avec tout mon amour
Sab mere pyaar ke saath
With all my love,
Kris
PS Sempre aperto! Except for that one cat near the fashion building.
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