My eyes are circled with the natural kohl of insomnia. I pace the floors. It’s stupid o’clock and yet you won’t let go of me. I can’t go cold turkey. I’ve tried. Please set me free of your grip.
Why do you do this? I’m no passive consumer, I review art for a pittance. I’m discerning in my choices. Yet here we are, again,locked in a co-dependent choreography. Ru Paul’s Drag Race, Imagine,The Traitors, any indie cinema flick or cult music documentary. My algorithms know me better than I know myself.
Ooh,look, yet another film about Bjork. I’ve not seen this one. There’s that psychology one. Oh! Black Panthers, Attenborough, more arts documentaries.. Just one more. I can do this. It’s only 1.30 am…
Hit The North 