the fortress. as imagined in the sky and drawn on a sick bag.

one day i will build a fortress
line the walls with chocolates, milk bottles and sweeties
and more importantly liquorice

lost and vh1 will be on 24 hours

a drawbridge would connect us to the outside world
the dishes would never be rinsed
tea would be served by half naked butlers who would not be permitted to speak

servants dispatched daily to fetch supplies of HEAT and we would have unlimited bandwidth.

hot grape baths would be run for us
TITS will be the only exclamation allowed, ever
laughing at your computer all day would be compulsory for all citizens.
there will be a calendar everywhere, but no clocks.

the fortress would pipe the house through the speakers all day long
the bangles would reunite and perform for the opening launch of the fortress that noone is allowed to enter
the spice girls would promise to and not
perez hilton would set up an office right next to yours, where you’d be writing your book and writing music
arson would happen daily
we would take potshots at people who irk us from the towers
cameron would be president of the land and decree that only pretty shoes may only ever be bought and worn

baking all day would be considered productive usage of time.
skype would be wired into our mental circuitry by a specialist doctor who knows how to do paparazzi without ever coming near us.
purging will happen on a weekly basis

anyone breaking the law would be sent to russia, wearing only an ugly thong.

noone could hurt us there.
nothing anyone said could make us blue ever.

one day, ill build you a fortress and you’ll see.

happy friday, larcy.