So many ideas floating in and out of me in a heartbeats moment. They involve business space next to Vuong, however sometimes I see myself sitting in a store in Paris too. A tremendously huge billboard on Sunset, spraypaint on Sohos Streets, old men with record players playing a french chanson that I will have specifically written for you. It will be called ‘Tu es celui qui me manque’ and it will be pretty. People from London to Colorado to South Africa to Niagara Falls should be singing the song silently to themselves when you pass them. I want Photobooth confessions, old school posters wherever you are, me hiding behind a mask, me hiding behind a ghost, just me, and just you. 

But then I remember how it’s never just you and me, and I simply feel stupid again.