memento mori and more is yet to come. / i’ll be home soon, waiting for you

even the rich and powerful will die. trump will die. starmer will die. kardashion will die. i will die and you will die. except i am a fictional character so maybe i won’t die. or maybe i will in some stories, but not in others. what if we all are characters in novels, who only live when our book is off the shelf?

my girlfriend managed to time her visit to her sister’s such that she was not in town when i got home from the bike holiday. i think she was holding me to a long tease. absence makes the something something. i was missing her.

and think a blushing thought of soft skinned twins of twins / just a finger’s pinch, a shallow bite, a nibble

it’s funny how the tease works, that the hint of a thing can be better than a lot of it. the feeling of being left wanting more. i think that’s why cigarettes are so popular. so fundamentally unsatisfactory that you need an infinite amount of them. typing this makes me want one now. and i quit a long time ago.