юни, Лондон, Рени:
You could say that the woman’s life was made for fantasy.
Al those idle hours, the boring repetitive jobs that her hands do automatically, the endless opportunities to reflect, construct and reconstruct…
In a sense we were born to dream, to stay at home…
It is how most of men dream of us.
Even today’s superwoman who leave the house to go to work has at least as much opportunity for the odd idle fantasy as the man at the next desk (and much more natural talent and practice at it) – the tedious undergorund rides, the dull business conferences, hangover days when you just can’t concentrate on anything except the erotic possibilities of the boss’s moustache, the provocative way the new account executive dresses, last night’s abandoned fuck with Harry, the prospect of tonight’s with George.
The most significant thing I have discovered about my fantasies is that they are far more exciting as fantasies than as reality.
They’re fun to share but once shared , half their magic, their power is gone.
They are sea pebbles upon which the waters have dried.
Is that a mystery?
So we are all…

This entry was posted on Monday, July 5th, 2010 at 11:56 pm and is filed under lifetime. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.