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.

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.

Thank you, Jack

Today I felt like starting

13, H, grate

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

Thank you, Jack

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.

brb i will read and reply sincerely

Lift Analysis

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

hello reader,

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

but really the thing should be autonomous