Saturday 14 July 2012

Sweet dreams are made of this

I dreamed of Fiona again last night. Both Fionas. Because my mind is that clever, and that fucked up.

Christ, I know what I need right now. Every fibre of me knows.

It's all right though. I have yoga for calm. I have sprinting for kicks. It's sort of the same.

Apart from not being by any stretch of the imagination the same.

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