idk
barren land
i love it here
that looks like my instagram account
thank you
i really havent
bro i read nothing in my life
is this you as well
and the fake qualifier
I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.
He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
so an active mazelike process
...
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
A procession forms behind the French Raj and his fireworks bearer as they head out the door. I've lost my Korean colleague / fresh meat in the chaos. I'm sure he'll be able to fend for himself. They have mandatory military service in Korea.
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.
or never left
Better Lift
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.
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
like first name
i was tempted to lie about my name
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.