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.

i love it here

plato

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

that looks like my instagram account

i was tempted to lie about my name