ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

Thank you, Jack

send your tumblr

i dont understand magnetisation

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

"Put a blanket."

December 2025

its good short few pages

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

yeah

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

its good


Worse Lift

no i haven't really read anything

Can I see

and the fake qualifier

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

idk

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.

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.

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

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.