mjalti:

i crave simple things in life like fresh sourdough bread with a shallow but ornate dipping bowl containing olive oil/balsamic/fresh herbs on a moonlit evening overlooking the sea in some fuckall, Mediterranean location where i’m left alone to eat my bread and let the iodine from the sea air heal my torn up spirit & also six hundred million dollars in unmarked duffle bags stuffed into a swiss bank account box i receive for completing a job of dubious morality