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

fw

barren land

that looks like my instagram account

your feed looks like my tumblr

is everyoneback on tumblr now

or never left

idk

lol yea

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

plato

thank you

yeah

ion

which magnetises chains of pins

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

yeah

its good

magnetises a pin

plato

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

After I get away from the old racist failed actor, I go to see my Korean colleague. He's just arrived in London and I want to see how he's handling the party. We'd been invited as fresh meat for some of the older, gayer attendees. We aren't aware of that.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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.

13, H, grate

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

As I'm trying to tell my Korean colleague / fresh meat that this is abnormal, that most people in England aren't like this, the host of the party emerges from the bathroom to a roar of laughter and applause. He's a fat middle aged Frenchman and he's changed into traditional Indian dress and a turban. He looks fucking ridiculous. I try to back away, to avoid the inevitable photo of me in this moment that will one day appear to ruin my life, but everyone is crowding around, trapping me in the middle of it.