i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
bro i read nothing in my life
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
and the fake qualifier
like first name
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
i really havent
is this you as well
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.
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
not so on: yvf(wthw)
plato
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.
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.
⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️
send link
Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.