brb i will read and reply sincerely
no like which do people call me
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.division of reality is straying away from it
lol yea
its good short few pages
Can I see
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
whats your name?
isaac
its good
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.kind of mythopoesis
is everyoneback on tumblr now
sorry i am texting like a slav
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
magnetises a pin
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
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.
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.
and the fake qualifier
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.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
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.
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
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
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.