only one wild asparagus plant remains on this barren land. i didn’t know that asparagus grew anywhere but farms, let alone in this country, but it doesn’t look like it will for much longer. soon, the last asparagus, the last opponent to man’s oppression of its kind, shall fall and man shall rule them all.

• the stars through the back window of the people carrier after driving home from france
• listening to an audio book of a rocking horse that comes to life in my cold kitchen
• a train that makes play-doh shapes
• taking root cuttings with my dad
• mixing witches brews and perfumes from foliage in my garden
• being able to fit under the red armchair 
• peeling the crust off of my croquettes and eating it separately 
• watching south park with my brother and a glass of gin at 3am

i like my pasta cold and tri-coloured and if my banana peels into four leaves, it’s a good day. but i don’t eat bananas any more because they contain a lot of sugar but paradoxically i can lick through numerous strawberry and cream or vanilla and raspberry chupa-chups a day. i have a  red mark beneath my right eye, i think it’s a collection of broken veins, broken by the beak of a penguin that kissed me. it used to embarrass me, but i realised that scars are the most beautiful of things. biology - that’s what makes a human. but your idiosyncrasies, your quirks - those make a person.

nannajane:

in 7 years its going to be the 20s again so we can bring back swing music and the aesthetics of that era but keep modern values who’s with me