we want to live the knowledge too live the content

ahnaf abrar

Lift Analysis

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

lol yea

barren land

its good

Rain, starting

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

no longer writing in the third person

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

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

1

. way too specific.

is this you as well

in a post. I want to be remembered

whats your name?

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Style

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

send your tumblr

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

2 (actually index). two is company