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.

sorry i am texting like a slav

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

It Will Get Lighter

the site i am dreaming

or never left

idk

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

and the fake qualifier

fw

that looks like my instagram account

bro i read nothing in my life

wait what is that

no like which do people call me

we need to be deconstructing our identities

what do you think my name is

i have read not even 1 book

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

send your tumblr

December 2025

its good short few pages

is this you as well

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

Thank you, Jack

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.

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

and the fake qualifier

plato