in a post. I want to be remembered

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.


My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.


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.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

It Will Get Lighter

brb i will read and reply sincerely

There is a pretty persistent ambient hate in England, a lot of people say vile shit about Muslims or immigrants or whatever, but in my experience most people aren't actual white supremacists. They have a black friend who they get a beer with. One of the good ones. Etc.

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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.

Better Lift

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

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.