As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
no longer writing in the third person
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
in a post. I want to be remembered
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
isaac
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
like first name
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.
send your tumblr
ahnaf abrar
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"Put a blanket."
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
i love it here
propensity within someone
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
yeah
i was tempted to lie about my name
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf