I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
whats your name?
god being the centre magnet
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
feel you
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
plato
is this you as well
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.
what do you think my name is
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
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.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.
like first name
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.
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me