bro i read nothing in my life
thank you
lol
i dont understand magnetisation
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.
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.
you cannot feed someone truth
i was tempted to lie about my name
feel you
i want to do that too
hello reader,
your feed looks like my tumblr
so at the end
we need to be deconstructing our identities
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
all that is to say
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.
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
hiding from the rain