Things that stress me out:
Fees. Bills. Applications. Job or PhD? Thesis. Essays. Deadline projects. Staying in touch.
The bottomless pit of introspection. Inconsistent meditation. Skipping gym.
Taking out the bin. Chipped ceramics. Unopenable tuna tins. Forgetting packed lunches.
Open microwave doors. Guest toilets that won’t flush. Frightful dreams.
Words that I like:
Dawn. Dusk. Quintessential. Pharaoh. Swift. Twilight. Autumn; rather than Fall.
Sustainable. Solar plexus. Tranquillity; tempted to tattoo it down my chest.
Thighs; preferably preceded with thick. Gazelle; horns sharp, twisted and tall.
Kiss. Lick. Bite. Lust and Summer; seasons best enjoyed undressed.
Qi; potential sixty two points on Scrabble, a life force when played right.
Triumph. Grace. Villanelle. Nemesis. Willy. Boobies; my first explicit search.
Giggle. Voluptuous. Suave. Cinnamon. Bun. Celsius; rather than Fahrenheit.
Whisper. Lavender. Sweet. Silence; as the reverential solace in church.
Things that I like:
The colour purple. Clean floors, matching tiles, smooth sheets. Quiet coach F on the Eastern Link.
Defiant desert shrubs. Closed doors. Seedless grapes. Greasy drippy bacon. Three egg omelettes.
To do Lists. Corsets and high heels; together. Pepperoni pizzas in the AM post cheap drinks.
Cold water the morning after. Crunchy peanut butter on toast. Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough.
Tea tree oil. Peppermint tea. Naps. Dead leaves. Ink on Papyrus. Story telling trees.
Double duvets in the winter. Flight tickets. Notes in my wallet. Fellatio.
Be there. Wear more purple. Drink more water. Eat more pizzas, less peanut butter. Get that tattoo.
Listen. Laugh without cause. Call mum on random Mondays. Write sonnets, sing songs, kiss more.
Breathe in, breathe out, purposefully, fifteen minutes each day. Put others on the prayer menu.
Read books written by women. Be unnecessarily kind (to yourself too). Put gratitude at your core.