There’s this notion, this puritanical notion, that if you take too much pleasure in your food, that it might somehow lead to bad character, might lead to harder stuff, like sex, for instance. I think the French have always understood that, yeah, hell, yeah, it does lead to sex, and it should.
- Me: * sees book store * *looks to friend* *shuffles towards bookstore*
- Friend: no.
I like drinking coffee alone, and reading alone. I like riding the bus alone, and walking home alone. I like eating alone, and listening to music alone. It gives me time to think, and set my mind free.
But when I see a mother with her child, a girl with her lover, or a friend laughing with their best friend, I realize that even though I like being alone, I don’t fancy being lonely. The sky is beautiful, but the people are sad. I just need someone who won’t run away.