and the fake qualifier
god being the centre magnet
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.
like first name
its good
i really havent
send link
is everyoneback on tumblr now
wait what is that
thank you
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
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
we need to be deconstructing our identities
...
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
kind of mythopoesis
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
i have read not even 1 book