yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

...

no like which do people call me

god being the centre magnet

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

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

is everyoneback on tumblr now

...

send link

its good

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

yeah

or never left

It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.

i really havent

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.

currently

fw

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.

Pimlico Rats

Rain, starting

Thank you, Jack

have you read

...

what do you mean

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

send your tumblr

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

It Will Get Lighter

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt