Did I write you here? Did you read it? Do you? If I did and you do and so does everyone else, do you feel less yourself than you did before? Because reading you, you could be anyone, that guy smoking on the curb outside his council house beneath the lilac blossoming trees, that girl [...]

So I went to see this film. And when I came out it was still just about light. The old cars, the flares, the motel rooms and polaroid snaps. I was born forty years too late. I forced myself not to analyse stylistics and film structure. Goddamn V. (She glows now. In the least clichéd [...]

As beautiful as a chance encounter on a dissection table of a washing machine and an umbrella. (Lautréamont)
If all else fails, and if I didn’t care at all, I would write this over and over for an hour and a half for my surrealist film paper.

From the other side of the garden fence my neighbour says very loudly and very sincerely, If I could go back and had the chance to start all over again, I would never have children. Not in a million years are they worth it.
This is a thought that should be left to simmer quietly [...]

My father has taken up his crusade to save The Couch. It is not all that dissimilar to the crusade of last year. He is adopting very similar techniques; once again he has martyred himself to the cause of A Clean Surface. Please, he says hoarsely when I get home, flagging, my sun burnt shoulders [...]

Read through old blog, marveled at both eloquence and relative amusingness. Caught a whiff of nostalgia.
One year ago today I counted down exams to go and shielded my head from a rain of flying ring binders with my mouth very very close to the telephone mouthpiece, back pressed into the ridges of a radiator and [...]

In capital black biro letters on my left foot it says RIGHT. And on the right, LEFT. Put your best foot forward. As if we’re not confused enough.
Everything is suspended again, least of all, lastly, my shirt on the line and a checkered tea towel caught in the branches of the birch tree, stolen, dug [...]

Mami tells me he seriously thought of -
and for one heart-stopping second I really thought she might say killing himself, he thought of killing himself of killing of stopping being there -
She watches the shape my thoughts make of my eyebrows. On some days we read each other like this.
(Yesterday when - fire engine shirt, [...]

I want to kill your hamsters.
Please stop leaving them at my door. Like abandoned babies in moses baskets on doorsteps. Only noisier. And smellier.

Saturday night, stumbling up curbs and snapping open shaken cans with a fizz. Two hundred unwieldy gazelles tripping past, lopsided, hobbling, screeching, fighting. A stab, a scratch, a nick, a moonlight scar running up (and down and up and) the taut skin of the back, a similar weave of silver criss-crossing tracks scritch-scratched over his [...]