I am sorry, but I just can’t think about perfume.
All I can think about is that ridiculous, ludicrous, selfish buffoon, and my country of birth’s stupid, stupid, STUPID decision.
I am furious, eaten up inside, and utterly beside myself with impotent rage.
Filed under Flowers
Tagged as An imaginary photographic tableau in which I play a hit man who takes him out before it is allowed to even happen, Can't people think logically and rationally about things, The fact that I personally want to incinerate the headquarters of The Sun and The Daily Mail, When small minded fuckheads destroy the future, When the basest instincts take over, When you realize that despite twenty years away you still really care about your homeland
The Black Narcissus