The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

like magnets

i really havent

thank you

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

lol yea

feel you

its good short few pages

yeah

god being the centre magnet


magnetises a pin

send your tumblr

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

i love it here

ahnaf abrar

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

or never left

send link

Pimlico Rats

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

bro i read nothing in my life

have you read

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.

abrar?

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

Slug