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.
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Can I see
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
was it worth it
thank you
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.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
is everyoneback on tumblr now
barren land
"Put a blanket."
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
i really havent
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
not so on: yvf(wthw)
its good
hello reader,
Overall meaning: The dream seems to explore vulnerability, unspoken emotion, and the tension between connection and isolation. It suggests you may be processing intense feelings of longing or missed opportunities, and your subconscious is guiding you to acknowledge, release, or transform them.