'Cos that's where the dream goes

Right, that's it. In 2015 or sooner I am moving to Paris.

daydreamin'

i dream a dirty dream of you baby,
you're swingin' from the chandelier,
i'm climbin' up the walls cause i want ya,
but when i reach ya you disappear

The morning after the wretched night of pain that went before, ever more

Tracy Emin's Bed. 1998.

This, if ever there could be such a splendid thing, is the most accurate, pure and honest representation of every physical, sexual, regrettable moment of my ever-moving, ever fucking life.
The dirt, the filth, the cruel lurkings within my ever-hollowed mind reside upon this stinking mattress. Though I may not respect the rest of this beautiful artist's work, this is sheer artistic perfection in my ever-open eyes.

Baby Boy, number one (and only)