It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.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.My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
barren land
so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
isaac
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
its good
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
your feed looks like my tumblr
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
no longer writing in the third person
is everyoneback on tumblr now
bro i read nothing in my life
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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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf