All bluesy without you.

Your hands would have been on my bare chest. Your lips would have been on my bare chest. Instead, I am here alone, listening to the blues, thinking about making another cup of coffee, thinking if I should have a quarter rum instead. My kitchen looks like a graveyard. We could have made love there [...]

Banging on my desk.

Working saturday sucks. It sucks more when it's a holiday but you are supposed to work because you didn't finish the work earlier on time. It sucks because the work will really never finish but your life surely will. And on your death bed, you won't remember and cherish a single moment spent on correcting [...]