westid

the higher you are, the further it falls, the harder it makes a splash. i went somewhere about a week ago, it was proper eerie. it was all dark and quiet, and i felt like someone was watching me. 99.9% of all germs fuck sake don’t send him over here. the golden rule in our family is don’t get [westid] involved. the amount of times it’s kicked off with one another over the phone and that “told you don’t get him involved now look at i ” …. “you’ve been in the game for five days cuz and already … ” – we all make mistakes – but this, i dunno this is different

i remember, loading some stuff up in a car … going up and down the top of deardengate with all sorts of mad stuff … so i had a closer look, it was very dark and quiet. if you’re ever in the like main bit of london near big ben and that – walk down a street if you can called great smith street and notice how it gets proper quiet and secluded all of a sudden, but you can just feel it. it wants you. and if you don’t know why, absolutely fascinating. what sweet pre-dawn chorus chaos looks to absorb me, and as it does, what will it go straight for

on that tv show stranger things, when he’s like “go awaaaaayyyy” and that darkness comes swirling so quietly all around him. only i want it to happen. don’t come it like you didn’t feel that, but why did the mind flayer wait for so long? and there i stood making one of my creative whimsical nothingnesses, surrounded by this unknown quantity, this darkness

it goes past, vibrantly involved in the light of day. they’re not burning in the solar flares of the chance i might be looking on. it’s not me they’re so concerned with, but the way that they read. a thought occurs; is it me that they know as i propagate through your minds from where i exist? is it something i have, or know? am i the perfect mark? i watch it go around a carousel. there’s not much behind the potemkin doors and windows of hungerford, i don’t see things which are probably more forthcoming in everyone else’s minds – i.e. what’s in it for me? but the question still, and so the thought beckons

someone i enjoyed to speak with for a while until more recently, intrigued me to look at how people collect information. how they appeal when you appeal to them, the way they move, the mirrorwriting of unscribable language; but where i come from intrigue is not enough. i can be devoted, so can any man. creative, thoughtful, sentient even ! what emerges from the predictable swirlywirlies of the upside down, that seeks to get inside this mind? i sometimes feel curious i might get to find