The photo is of me.
The cigarette is probably a Benson & Hedges Gold or a Camel (Original) given my preference for these brands. However the photo is from a club night, so the cigarette could have come from anywhere.
The t-shirt is from a uniqlo store in causeway bay in hong-kong. It is a ‘unique’ item in that only a handful of copies of this print were made. The Sketch was by some Japanese dude with a massive afro. His photo was on the price tag. The tee cost about five pounds.
Uniqlo are a superb company providing exceptional quality given their standard price range.
This is the best photo I could find on facebook.
Perhaps I just don’t have the strength to stand in daylight and hold a steady gaze. Perhaps because I keep my hea…
(more)
The photo is of me.
The cigarette is probably a Benson & Hedges Gold or a Camel (Original) given my preference for these brands. However the photo is from a club night, so the cigarette could have come from anywhere.
The t-shirt is from a uniqlo store in causeway bay in hong-kong. It is a ‘unique’ item in that only a handful of copies of this print were made. The Sketch was by some Japanese dude with a massive afro. His photo was on the price tag. The tee cost about five pounds.
Uniqlo are a superb company providing exceptional quality given their standard price range.
This is the best photo I could find on facebook.
Perhaps I just don’t have the strength to stand in daylight and hold a steady gaze. Perhaps because I keep my head down I only see the fallen things. Whatever, I have seen little to love staring astern at the carcass strewn wake of the whale ships, and since the seas are in such rude health these days I’m sick; empathy, perhaps, but truly the fear of death, sprinkled with a mild distain for its unnatural normality.
I prefer the night because the moon’s pale reflection bleeds all the world to shades of gray, ripe, it seems, for my crayolas. When ashore I aspire to sit in stations’ twilight fluorescence, shadowless away from the cities outside, and tag myself and my friends great neon shapes across the trains when the guards are sleeping, but all that’s left are stubs of fever dreams of callous pyramids and Denton back on the streets at midnight, sunglasses on, scanning the darkness for threats.
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