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.
isaac
yeah
have you read
isaac newton
god being the centre magnet
yeah
so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
is this you as well
feel you
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
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.
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.plato
hello reader,
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
we need to be deconstructing our identities
like first name
i have read not even 1 book
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
thank you
He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.
Better Lift
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
wait what is that