I am below everything.

not their contents

Slug

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.

Rain, starting

was it worth it

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.

13, H, grate

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

But seriously, thank you, Jack, for telling me that I could submit this to a high-level literary magazine or creative nonfiction outlet with some minor tweaks. I don't think I will do that.

its good short few pages

As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.

yeah

I Write Goodbye Letter

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

thank you

magnetises a pin

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book