[...] I need to have a man I want Tristan to come back lousy dunghill of a world they are shouting they are laughing and here I am withering on the shelf: forty-three it’s too soon it’s unfair I want to live. Big-time life that’s me: the convertible the apartment the dresses everything. Florent shelled out and no horsing around—except a little in bed right’s right—all he wanted to do was to go to bed with me and show me off in smart joints I was lovely my loveliest time all my girlfriends were dying with envy. It makes me sick to think of those days nobody takes me out anymore I just stay here stewing in my own shit. I’m sick of it I’m sick of it sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick sick.