I Write Goodbye Letter

i have read not even 1 book

that looks like my instagram account

thank you

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

no like which do people call me

idk

i was tempted to lie about my name

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

isaac newton

whats your name?

isaac

its good

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

like first name

was it worth it

its good

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

like magnets

is everyoneback on tumblr now

feel you

not so on: yvf(wthw)

A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.


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.


plato

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.

no i haven't really read anything

yeah