The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.
lol yea
or never left
i have read not even 1 book
thank you
whats your name?
we can only engage in such a way
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
god being the centre magnet
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.
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
no like which do people call me
Can I see
ion
plato
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
we need to be deconstructing our identities
yes
ahnaf abrar
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
what do you think my name is
what do you mean