I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.
is everyoneback on tumblr now
in a post. I want to be remembered
its good short few pages
barren land
i have read not even 1 book
plato
that looks like my instagram account
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
and the fake qualifier
have you read
i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying
bro i read nothing in my life
no like which do people call me
lol yea
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.
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
send your tumblr
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
"Put a blanket."
...
or never left
your feed looks like my tumblr
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting