so at the end
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
Today I felt like starting
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.Lift Analysis
The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."