My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.

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

so at the end

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

but i respect your search

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

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

really i want the internet

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

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

yes

was it worth it

send link

much more tactility

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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.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."