I read the Paris Interview
I drink beer
I write my thesis
I type stuff from a bar
I also take a lot of time to cum
I think it would be a status symbol to meet a girl with whom I can
discuss jhumpa lahiri
I wish I was in better shape
I wish I could be more proactive and bottom with a guy
I wish I could color my hair blue a day and pink the next day
I wish I could pay with my AmEx card at a fancy restaurant and at a
haute coutre store
I wish I owned a car
I wish I could sit at a table reserved for me and write stuff in a
moleskine or equivalent notebook
Failing this, I wish I could sit a table reserved for me and write stuff
into my latest MacBook
I wish I could switch off my phone for a long period at a time
I wish I be spared of the death of my loved ones
I wish my bowel movements are smooth
I wish all judgemental stares at me, or the eyes or those who stare,
explode and char down
I wish I could have an affair with a woman fourty years old
I wish I got all the words right
I wish I could speak with the correct amount of pauses, of words, of
shrugs
I wish my phone would always stay the latest, and without a case
I wish I could eradicate poverty
I wish that people would be attracted to me with zero effort on my part
I wish that I could have a personal hair stylist
I wish I could experience hallucinogenic stuff
I wish I could have a stronger constitution, bodily
I wish I was not autistic
I wish I was more empathetic
I wish I could read situations better
I wish my ‘what am i’ lists did not turn into ‘what i wish to be’ lists.