i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
like first name
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.
Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.
abrar?
i want to do that too
i really havent
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
ahnaf abrar
was it worth it
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
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
no longer writing in the third person
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
brb i will read and reply sincerely
but i respect your search