And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

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.

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.

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.

...

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

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.

is everyoneback on tumblr now

hello reader,

abrar?

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

It Will Get Lighter

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

Picture

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

not so on: yvf(wthw)

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time