After I get away from the old racist failed actor, I go to see my Korean colleague. He's just arrived in London and I want to see how he's handling the party. We'd been invited as fresh meat for some of the older, gayer attendees. We aren't aware of that.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

i see a website

so at the end

Better Lift

its performative

you cannot feed someone truth

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Lift Analysis

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

that looks like my instagram account

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

its good short few pages

barren land

Worse Lift

thank you

what do you think my name is

yeah

feel you

hiding from the rain