Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.
i love it here
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
send your tumblr
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
what do you mean
no like which do people call me
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
I am below everything.
Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out."Put a blanket."
wait what is that
sorry i am texting like a slav
ahnaf abrar
He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.
it is hopeful
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch