what do you think my name is
i really havent
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.
...
hello reader,
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.no like which do people call me
sorry i am texting like a slav
magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you
not so on: yvf(wthw)
abrar?
send link
its good short few pages
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.
i understand
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
kind of mythopoesis
but really the thing should be autonomous
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
lol
we can only engage in such a way
no i haven't really read anything
not their contents