hiding from the rain

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

its performative

Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.

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

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

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.

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

as in

not their contents

13, H, grate

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

Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.

no longer writing in the third person

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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

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

abrar?

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I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

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.

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

ahnaf abrar

i really havent

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it