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 was tempted to lie about my name

its good

i dont understand magnetisation

fw

bro i read nothing in my life

lol yea

magnetises a pin

i really havent

no i haven't really read anything

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

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

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

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

whats your name?

god being the centre magnet

sorry i am texting like a slav

yeah

plato

was it worth it

idk

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

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

1

. way too specific.

Pimlico Rats

is this you as well

2 (actually index). two is company

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.