Flamenco.

Fuck.

I'm mad at the world again.

....


I need to get the Hell out of here.

I need a breath of fresh air.

I need to remember just how big this world is... even when this fucking city feels so goddamn small and stuffy.

I need to get off the fucking internet. Turn off my phone. Whatever.

Fuck. I've never been more excited to get away. To take a break.

Ibiza, Spain this August.

This shit is so on. And yeah, maybe Amsterdam, too. So I can get stoned out of my frikkin' mind and eat space cakes and just laugh and eat and laugh with my mouth open, tears running down my eyes, and forget about all the fucking annoying things in this world that make life more difficult than it has to be.

And I'm not even mad.

Just super tired.

I'M. TIRED.

I need a change of fucking scenery.

And who knows?

Maybe I can finally dance the Flamenco at least once in my life. That way, I'd have fulfilled a childhood dream.

And all the other trivial shit in this world wouldn't matter. Because I'd have gotten to dance the Flamenco in Spain.

Try that one on your shit of "things to do before you die."

......

Perhaps tonight's Republiq launch, Popo Go's long gown, glamorous hair and make-up AND A FUCKING GLASS OF CHAMPAGNE can get me out of this melodramatic funk.