kind of mythopoesis
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
its good
feel you
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
no i haven't really read anything
bro i read nothing in my life
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
barren land
what do you mean
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.
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.
that looks like my instagram account
no like which do people call me
send link
so at the end
currently
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
brb i will read and reply sincerely
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
we want to live the knowledge too live the content
send your tumblr
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
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.