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.

ahnaf abrar

no i haven't really read anything

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

and the fake qualifier

what do you think my name is

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

feel you

yeah

so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

its good short few pages

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

barren land

Slug

that looks like my instagram account

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.

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.

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.

all that is to say

your feed looks like my tumblr