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.
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.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
is everyoneback on tumblr now
division of reality is straying away from it
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
bro i read nothing in my life
Thank you, Jack
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
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.
was it worth it
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
and the fake qualifier
...
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet