time is of the essence

i will explain.
first it's work. yeh i know, work and summer doesnt sound quite right but actually it does
had been blending amongst the white collars for a week
along with the buttoned up shirts (which i swear, can never pull off, no matter how many times some fashion blog reminds me that its some '10 dandy trend),
venti papercups some caffine tinted air some more cig-cooked afternoons
give me one more line and i could just trash it up
by tellin how much i felt at home with all the synchronization

ironically,
the components of my work doesn't really coincide with title in the teeniest way
instead, its may suggest something of the different kind
but still, its one mind-blowing week comparable to leo's sci-fi
someone please plant some idea in me
and preferably
something tht suggest
it'll be alright
life would be alright
we'll all be alright

stayed up last nite to figure out some europe routes
fyi, its now merely london --> paris --> london
not too bad i suppose,
i just hope i could hold back those tears
if there's any, that is

one hour due court.
one of my most frequent tweets/sayings last week and this as well
new boss.
wonder how things will turn out.
i actually loved every bit of my last counsel.
the intricate antiques buggly chinese paintings and above all,
the freedom of vogue-reading amongst cases
and unlimited coffee breaks cotton on breaks lunch breaks movie breaks
what kind of work is that yeh?


amidst the interrogation and witness statements
i proudly produced a map
" the way to the future"
like howard huges calls it
and before i get too carried away with the smart looking table
something hit me
wait.
what?
some fear of some sort crept into me as i write, against my vocation- 30 years of age
and that itself,
sound somewhat similar to a death sentence
and i still didnt, more like couldnt, figure out where to place "marry a rich good-looking guy and have some babies"

so. time is of the essence. no?

i was amusing myself with those worn out memories
faces caked in powder too much curls too much blings
but never my mother and father
never.
they prided themselves in fred perry, high-waist trousers, over-coat
assesorized in youth and youth itself
occasionally, a wrong bag here and a little too much hair there
but mostly its just a reflection of the weather
and themselves

i wonder if i can still walk into the streets of roma, paris
without tinted moisurizer, primer of any sort
and could still stand tall and bold
taking strides into the louvre sunset
i may choose to take refugee under a camel coat
or a buttoned up military drape
and pretend they're some quarantine
from all thats against me
and my world

speaking of which,
i have less than an hour to suit up
just wana drop in and give some advice
i promise i will organize my thoughts a little better next time.