is this you as well
i really havent
sorry i am texting like a slav
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
i was tempted to lie about my name
i want to do that too
magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
no i haven't really read anything
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
December 2025
I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.
like first name
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.
Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
bro i read nothing in my life
isaac
plato
bro i read nothing in my life
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"Put a blanket."
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.
Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.
A roll of 50s is one of the items he dumps onto my table during the search. Of course it is. He asks if I'm a delivery boy or a setter or this or that diamond related job. I keep saying no, I'm enjoying hearing all of these new words. Eventually I tell him that I work in film, which is kind of true. He asks where I'm filming. I'm not filming. He tells me that I can't be that good at it then. He then tells me that he made a film once, in the 80s. It was called Pimlico Rats.
feel you
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is everyoneback on tumblr now