single bedroom in Harrington Road. hot, radiator is always burning, and the timer of my 14 inch tv isn’t working tonight. went to the hospital yesterday, Chelsea and Westminster, it only took me 2 hours to get some pills and to check nothing happened to my Achilles sinew, no one wants to see my “for the occasion made” European social security card.
the daughter of the king of Morocco needs a new house in London, every monday morning a new lorry comes and delivers hundreds of packages, no crane, only muscle strength, six floors up and down.
nights begin early, at 3:30 we build up our lamps. never-ending nights without her, bad dreams, short sleep… and a nice dream tells me
go to a national park and shoot a film.
i need a camera.
creativity, where are you?