Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue
"Put a blanket."
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
is everyoneback on tumblr now
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
abrar?
was it worth it
have you read
barren land
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
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.
wait what is that
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
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
lol
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.
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.
idk
ion
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
send link
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
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.