dreams have been full of colin firth kissing me. last night i also visited cambodia mudslides with fiona and dylan and daniel, green green heavy green humidity and plenty of family. before that someone may have grabbed my arm.
bed is more refined now, closer to the dream. buttery white soft cleanliness and cotton, an obsession. i like waking up these days, i like drifting towards sleep too, though not swathed in nearly enough hours or firth. he certainly was a dreamboat, coming down after spotting me from the high window, to keep me company in the heated water. wherever we were must have been california.
i looked up colin firth oh wow on youtube and it yielded quite a lot of fan vids, but they made me feel lonely, like bridget jones, only she got some firth.
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