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.
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.
magnetisation/form
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
autonomy of learning
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
its good
feel you
idk
all that is to say
was it worth it
we can only engage in such a way
is this you as well
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
no like which do people call me
lol
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.sorry i am texting like a slav
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
Can I see
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
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.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
i was tempted to lie about my name