i understand

and the fake qualifier

feel you

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

not so on: yvf(wthw)

we need to be deconstructing our identities

idk

ahnaf abrar

i was tempted to lie about my name

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging
part of an old note. It will get lighter.

your feed looks like my tumblr

fw

I Write Goodbye Letter

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

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.

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

bro i read nothing in my life

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

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.

no like which do people call me

thank you

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.

magnetises a pin

what do you think my name is

yeah

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

2 (actually index). two is company

and the fake qualifier

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.

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.

barren land

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.

plato