I love coffee up the bum.
you say you want to die but,
you still put that seat belt on
and look both ways before crossing the street
you lock your windows and doors
you would scream if someone was following you late at night
you would run for your life
but you do want to die
you just want to die on your own terms.
“Amelie has no boyfriend. She’s tried once or twice, but the results were a let down. Instead, she cultivates a taste for small pleasures: dipping her hand into sacks of grain, cracking creme brulee with a teaspoon, and skipping stones at St. Martin’s canal.”
—Jean-Pierre Jeunet, Le Fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain