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.

is everyoneback on tumblr now

i have read not even 1 book

send your tumblr

that looks like my instagram account

barren land

no i haven't really read anything

lol yea

have you read

what do you mean

god being the centre magnet

isaac

whats your name?

or never left

yeah

which magnetises chains of pins

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.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

you cannot feed someone truth

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

is this you as well

i want to do that too

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

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.