ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
isaac
or never left
magnetises a pin
barren land
magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
that looks like my instagram account
send your tumblr
i understand
ion
i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
its good
plato
and the fake qualifier
i really havent
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.
like magnets
your feed looks like my tumblr
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
i have read not even 1 book
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
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.
yeah
i really havent
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.
...
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
and the fake qualifier