██▒░░░░░░░ 𝗣𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗠

only thrash metal can save us.

even in the midst of march's cold rain there is the perfume of spring's young flowers.

tremendous fog today — bravo!

ARMAND HAMMER scala thu 19 mar

"operation epic fury" sounds like one of those shit books middle-aged white men buy at airports so they've got something to stare at while their wives ignore them on holiday.

strangers stroking a stranger's dog ≠ stroking a pregnant woman's tummy.

paulmc2283: show was amazing michael. my question would been, sopranos is renowned for its use of music. which smiths song would you like to have used in the show and do you have a scene in mind? realmichaelimperioli: i know it's over.

after a crushing guitar intro he starts to screams slowly—”we enter winter once again."

tooled-up vermin in black vests with "revenue protection" stitching block the ticket gates, commuters trickling thru on a tuesday evening, common sight lately.

FEBRUARY

Top artists:
Mach-Hommy— Westside Gunn — Mk.gee

Top albums:
Atlantic Rhythm & Blues: 1947-1974 — Hitler Wears Hermes 8: Side B — Untrue.

Top tracks:
SEPARATION OF THE SHEEP AND THE GOATS — One (Live)— Ball Tongue.

watching male pigeons bob & flirt, getting into work as the office radio plays the bangles.

alan partridge saying "still, good news about the chocolate oranges", except "the chocolate oranges" has been scratched out & replaced with "gorton & denton".

in the 14,797 days of my existence, today is the first time i am cooking leeks.

saturday morning, one of my favourite things: lying in bed & hearing cars passing in the rain, that tyre hiss coming through my open window in dawn's dim light, with nothing to do, nowhere to be.

a building concealed by tattered white sheets, with scaffolding emerging illuminated in red — it is very eery.

my offices 2011-2021.

daily, an unsettling amount of food wrappers in the office toilets — entire meals consumed & washed down within the pokey confines of a cubicle, soudntracked by you-know-what.

hayfever creeping.

we have blossom!

phyrexia: all will be fashion.

"wu-tang again?!"

it is truly a beautiful morning that makes you forget, even if for a moment, about the collapse of the west & the abhorrent depravity of your fellow man.

the loner wonders how long his body will lie there, who will discover it — "neighbours were alerted by the smell" — it is only a thought, a passing thought.

the first ladybird of the season must be rescued from the cat & cast back out into the world [carefully] so that it can live its best life.

F♯ A♯ ∞

deep within the labyrinthian basement of this building is an alarm that does not stop sounding.

"she's dead!"

my love-making has been described as "kafkaesque".

i tried to eat as much of the stranger's hair as i could stomach.