...

we need to be deconstructing our identities

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.

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

Lift Analysis

hello reader,

It's loud and he's gone deaf in one ear, so I don't think he's really hearing anything I'm trying to say. We're both pretty drunk too. It's making for a kind of surreal interactive Business Insider YouTube video of a conversation. He talks, waits for my response, sees my mouth moving but doesn't hear my words, then he imagines something in their place, and replies to that. At least I don't really have to do anything but drink and mime and listen to a lot of bullshit fake gangster talk, being an actor, boxing, the old days, blah blah blah.

2 (actually index). two is company

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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

not so on: yvf(wthw)

I Write Goodbye Letter

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.
and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos