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[12 Jun 2016|06:17pm] |
Wales.
Every morning when I wake up I say a little prayer that this is all a bad dream. Then I open my eyes and I'm still here. In Wales. Oh what I wouldn't give for a Pain au Chocolat from Des Gâteaux et du Pain or to spend the afternoon in Faubourg Saint-Honoré. I doubt the general populace here even knows how to pronounce Versace or Hermes, much less how essential they are to my very being. Honestly, what was my father thinking bringing me to a place like this? He may as well have locked me away in a convent. At least there I could get my kicks corrupting some nuns.
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| You say bitch like it's a bad thing |
[05 May 2015|06:14pm] |
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( Tempest Laroque )
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