i see a website
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
"Put a blanket."
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
."No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
...
but i respect your search
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
so an active mazelike process
really i want the internet
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.