i was tempted to lie about my name

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

yeah

i understand

I Write Goodbye Letter

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.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

ion

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

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.

Slug

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

Thank you, Jack

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

what do you think my name is

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
13, H, grate

we need to be deconstructing our identities

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.