like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

brb i will read and reply sincerely

so at the end

He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.

send link

yeah

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

and the fake qualifier

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

god being the centre magnet

barren land

i really havent

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you

your feed looks like my tumblr

lol yea

plato

its good short few pages

whats your name?

send your tumblr

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

yeah

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

December 2025

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

we need to be deconstructing our identities

i was tempted to lie about my name

was it worth it

sorry i am texting like a slav

i love it here

i dont understand magnetisation

isaac newton

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.

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.

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."

is everyoneback on tumblr now