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DO NOR BIRUY ANYTHING I WRITE

colombo

it is one oh one am. i am looking at a tall building through a large window. and the building is lit up. people are moving outside. there are lots of sounds. i am not used to lots of sounds at one oh one am. where i come from everything is quiet all of the time. i am in london. hello i have moved to london. i have moved to london with no money and no job. today was spent doing a photoshoot by a canal for 'dazed and confused'. there was the art director or something and a photographer and a stylist. it seemed really funny to have a stylist. nobody put my penis in their mouth during the entire thing. it seemed totally fucked. what am i even doing. why the fuck am i the only blog full up with fucking chinese proverbs. is it possible to swallow a glass ball containing a fire and to have the fire burn inside of your stomach and warm you from the inside out. in the past i have thought 'if i move to london i will never be on my own'. one of the lights in the building has just gone. some people are talking in the street. shouting. going to go press my face against the glass. okay back. not really sure what it was. someone came into the building. vaguely consider becoming a human ouroboros by chewing my toenails. really really feel like a lamppost. how long could i do this for. like write this blog post i mean. i am spending time in my life writing this blogpost. my life will end eventually. i am spending time in my life writing this blogpost. this blogpost could be the last thing i do. i could walk through to the kitchen and push a frying pan down my throat. the world is large and upsetting. people are inconsistent and strange. it seems like people arent venn diagrams. the people in the building opposite have a large television. i want to go outside and walk to somewhere and pay money for a cup of tea and talk to someone while drinking the cup of tea. and everything will be like the film lost in translation. not sure how i feel about cities. what are all these sounds. what is happening. who are these people. why are they so busy. this blogpost could literally go on forever. might just type until i pass out. might build a chandelier out of cutlery. no. it isnt my cutlery. there are very many people in london and right now none of them are speaking with me. fuck everything else. what is work. what is neckjob. what the fuck is huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu. why cant people walk everywhere enter say speak. this is- i am going to go and make tea maybe. make tea and write. should i do that. nothing matters. i should write. i should write or else i will be here forever staring at a building with some of the lights on with a television showing explosions with people who arent me trying to make each other feel less lonely. it just seems as though there is no such thing as the loud crush felt when a sky falls. is this a long blogpost. no it isnt. if you have read this then you are a human being and you will eventually die and you have spent some of your alive time reading this. thanks. that is very kind of you. i hope you always have enough tshirts for you and your scarecrow. i still might join the merchant navy. indecision is a hymn sung by renaissance homosexuals without the ability to taste sweet things. also you own a liver but you are not proud. a trophy is a plate that someone has spat on. okay. well. going to go and do something other that this slutting piece of shit. you motherfuckers. this is fucking bent. you fucking queers. i am going to become an airbag. i am going to save david camerons life and later urinate into his coffee mug. i am going to put his shoes on my hands and then hit him with them. i am going to wipe my penis against the collar of all of his shirts before he puts them on. i am going to fall passionately in love with his wife and have sex with her until she cant breathe and is dead. it seems like this moment has lasted for almost ever. the time is one twenty four now. look at all that time. the internet just crashed and half of this post was lost. maybe 1000-2000 words. but that's okay. because. please be heaven, hollow, tall x

radiators

i have not written a blog post for a while maybe. this weekend i went to london. met a number of internet people 'in real life' for the first time. everyone was very nice and super. we went to a party on a roof with a man who kept saying 'do you want a sausage'. i think ani smith has some pictures of me 'staring with awe' into her fridge. would feel stupid typing things in detail. just very much felt positive about everyone etc etc.

you can preorder The Kasahara School of Nihilism on Amazon now if you want.

it is also present on goodreads, twice. thankyou to whoever put it up. grateful. it is here and it is also here.

you can also preorder it from fugue state here.

what a lot of serious things.

i think i like my dog because she cannot tell when i have hurt other people.

i think i like my hands because they seem to stay roughly the same no matter what happens.

someone on this website where people post each other books they dont want anymore has asked for a copy of fences. if anyone has a copy of fences and thinks 'oh this is pretty shitty' then i encourage to send it to the person. i think that the person pays the postage costs.

not going to school and do not have a job. if anyone would like to employ me then i would like to say yes. my email address is brooksben@hotmail.co.uk. i can procrastinate, draw pictures of wrinkled eyes, roll cigarettes, throw things, read, do basic arithmetic, and sleep. if this sounds like what you are looking for then please 'get in touch'.

feel like this is maybe the most boring blog post i have ever written.

hello