okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
i really havent
its good short few pages
is everyoneback on tumblr now
feel you
its good
what do you think my name is
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.
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
i was tempted to lie about my name
and the fake qualifier
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.
magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you
like first name
plato
bro i read nothing in my life
ion
no like which do people call me
idk
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
fw
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
its performative