I woke up feeling sweaty today. My dream was almost surreal, but silly me I didn't remember a thing about it. Something's wrong here, must've been the granola bars or that peculiar green jacket I bought last month. I always knew there was something fishy about it. Hmm.
I like those cherry red lips. I want.
Her eyes. Beautiful? Yes. Provoking? Yes.
Her blushing cheeks are lightly tinted, yes, this is the look. It is almost perfect for my brooding goth night out. I want to be seen attending the musical theaters in Bordeaux, exactly like this.
But one thing.
Where are her tits? I don't see it. I don't want to be flat-chested.
I guess you can't have everything in life. Wrong.
Haven't you heard of plastic surgery my dear? Don't care what other people say about you; it's your body after all, not theirs.
I must make a self memo to remind me, what time did I slept last night. Gosh, I'm terrible.
Darlings, I have to go now, see you soon.
