We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
send your tumblr
sorry i am texting like a slav
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
its good short few pages
magnetises a pin
have you read
its good
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
is everyoneback on tumblr now
yeah
...
lol
was it worth it
isaac newton
that looks like my instagram account
Better Lift
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
send link
bro i read nothing in my life
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
and the fake qualifier