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04/13/2020
IamCraving
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IamCraving
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The feeling after a nap, which you always don't really know whether you like it or not
Peacefulness and confused dreams lurk in the deep sleep of a slumber during the day.
There is a feeling of addiction to warm, wonderful sleep, almost angry and yet so fragile. After waking up, the throat is dry and dilated, the disorientation often great, the slight throbbing in the stomach satisfied, somewhere a remnant of threatening, dreamlike unreality remains.
All this is "Fashion Avenue" to me in one fragrance.
A ravishing mimosa is the beginning of this sleepy temptation. With her flowery sweetness and unadulterated clarity she draws all attention to herself, is cheeky, bright and nimble and lures us with a gurgling giggle ..........into the stable. Fortunately, there is no cow to be seen for miles around. The barn is empty and runs over before afternoon sun, which runs through all cracks in the dry wood. It smells of warm hay and that is the moment when it is too late to resist the temptation of a little nap, because the hay is just too soft not to be embedded in it. Immediately we are numbed by a heavy, pulling feeling of well-being, into which we can let ourselves fall like into a kiss, which does not get boring and to which giving in to it constantly and anew is the greatest bliss! From time to time we twitch briefly in our sleep and curl our nose because a bear-sized lime is following us in our dreams and throwing pulp fibres at us, which we try to avoid more badly than right. And so we toss and turn in gentle excitement through the golden afternoon until we are awakened and the aforementioned slight burning down the chest gives off a mixture of threatening doom and security. But who actually dared to tear us out of this blissful slumber, and just then, when the evil lime has been killed by a huge bale of hay? Of course, the mimosa. She had shyly moved away just after we arrived at the stable, as mimosas do. But since she is a curious creature, she opened up again after an hour, stalked and watched us sleeping with big green eyes. There are worse bedroom mates to wake up and so we watch each other from a safe distance. The sun is already setting and somewhere a small lucky memory in us bursts and dissolves the indecision whether this after-lunch nap feeling is pleasant or not, clearly in the beautiful direction
There is a feeling of addiction to warm, wonderful sleep, almost angry and yet so fragile. After waking up, the throat is dry and dilated, the disorientation often great, the slight throbbing in the stomach satisfied, somewhere a remnant of threatening, dreamlike unreality remains.
All this is "Fashion Avenue" to me in one fragrance.
A ravishing mimosa is the beginning of this sleepy temptation. With her flowery sweetness and unadulterated clarity she draws all attention to herself, is cheeky, bright and nimble and lures us with a gurgling giggle ..........into the stable. Fortunately, there is no cow to be seen for miles around. The barn is empty and runs over before afternoon sun, which runs through all cracks in the dry wood. It smells of warm hay and that is the moment when it is too late to resist the temptation of a little nap, because the hay is just too soft not to be embedded in it. Immediately we are numbed by a heavy, pulling feeling of well-being, into which we can let ourselves fall like into a kiss, which does not get boring and to which giving in to it constantly and anew is the greatest bliss! From time to time we twitch briefly in our sleep and curl our nose because a bear-sized lime is following us in our dreams and throwing pulp fibres at us, which we try to avoid more badly than right. And so we toss and turn in gentle excitement through the golden afternoon until we are awakened and the aforementioned slight burning down the chest gives off a mixture of threatening doom and security. But who actually dared to tear us out of this blissful slumber, and just then, when the evil lime has been killed by a huge bale of hay? Of course, the mimosa. She had shyly moved away just after we arrived at the stable, as mimosas do. But since she is a curious creature, she opened up again after an hour, stalked and watched us sleeping with big green eyes. There are worse bedroom mates to wake up and so we watch each other from a safe distance. The sun is already setting and somewhere a small lucky memory in us bursts and dissolves the indecision whether this after-lunch nap feeling is pleasant or not, clearly in the beautiful direction
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