for hours I would sit and watch the passing of air over calm water, the breaths of wind that shake the maple leaves and the birch. what I was trying to see was the space.

just to talk

amongst the clouds, above Paris, waiting for the heavy westerly wind to throw me away

to make close friends

“As external conditions change, it becomes tougher to meet the three conditions that sociologists since the 1950s have considered crucial to making close friends: proximity; repeated, unplanned interactions; and a setting that encourages people to let their guard down and confide in each other.”

open letter to you maybe

sometimes i think of how you opened your lips to kiss me

and how i would close my mouth in disgust.

i would do

anything

to

feel 

empty again.

i feel,

everything

now

and it feels so fucking unreal.

Fuck off FIFA

This is just a fantastic video. John Oliver summarises this fantastically.

Pucker Playlist: June 2014

A collection of songs I’ve found myself listening to. I don’t know if my cup has been half empty recently or whether I even have one anymore but regardless, these songs have been circulating. None are particularly new, all are particularly good.

1. Toro y Moi – Say That

Video above, I mean, that dance in the chorus right? Great glasses bro.

2. G-Easy – Far Alone (Feat. E-40 & Jay Ant)

So fucking ghetto innit.

3.  Chet Faker – Talk is Cheap (Ta-ku Remix)

You know when you call your girlfriend fat and you can just hear the last words tumble out of your mouth and everything slows down to almost nothing and it is everything you can do to hope that the world will open up and engulf you? That.

4. Funkineven & Fatima – Phone Line

Wassup girl.

5. Sylvan Esso – Hey Mami

I remember kissing a danish girl in my car so long ago who was so incredibly beautiful she made my stomach ache. We spoke for so long and I felt like I hand’t been closer to anyone for the longest time. All I wanted to do was kiss her and feel her against me. In the end I reached across and kissed her fully expecting my world to implode. It turned out to be one of the worst kisses I have ever been involved in.

6. The Slackers – Alone Again

Sometimes being alone isn’t so bad. For three blithe minutes, this song certainly thinks so.

7. The Notorious BIG – Ten Crack Commandments

I spoke to some guy about East coast and West Coast and he spoke at length as to why Biggie was inferior to Pac. I nodded and listened and let him be. What a fucking twat.

8. Jaw Jam – Tha One I See In My Fantasies When Im Dreaming (Mix II)

Old school garage that’s not old school garage. You know what I mean right? Can’t find the youtube link for this. Soundcloud it, you wankers.

9. How to Dress Well – Repeat Pleasure

I think this is a trilogy? I mean, what’s the fucking point. Why not just write another song? It’s not a fucking film. You cunts.

10. D’Angelo – Spanish Joint (Osage Remix)

Afrobeat is one of the best things to have happened to music. I guess I don’t know whether this is afrobeat but the statement still stands.

GoPRO Coasteering Video

My brother is getting married so we went jumping in water and shit.

The Avenue

We grew up in the greys of West London under the dull roar of the M4. You were two years older than me but numbers never meant anything back then. I suppose they mean everything to me now. In the urban Summer we grew up sweaty and dirty in second hand clothes, not in poverty but not completely without. The house became our playground until we out grew it and it became a prison and we looked longingly out onto the streets waiting for our lives to happen. I remember the day our computer picked itself up out of the 80’s and revealed a set of moving images in the form of what was it, an Idlewild cd? We were so deliriously happy. We played that cd over and over again, the computer shuddering under the strain of our excited demands. I never even really liked that song. Almost 20 years later I am still here but those days have passed. I wonder if I’ll ever really feel anything again, I certainly don’t feel happy. Every waking day is a painful reminder that I am still alive and alone, craven in my polemic stand off, looking at the world through a dirty eye piece of an empty gun. In these solipsisms I forgot that romance ceases to exist. At the end of Bukowski poem, you’re still alone, it doesn’t matter how many quotes you repost on your tumblr. In any case it seems my very existence is commensurate with my misery. I want her and she doesn’t want me. I want to be happy again but instead I have no affect at all. Those London summers seemed so blithe and free and maybe one day I’ll go back. In whatever form.