and the fake qualifier

its good

is everyoneback on tumblr now

and the fake qualifier

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

we need to be deconstructing our identities

i really havent

bro i read nothing in my life

what do you mean

lol yea

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

ahnaf abrar

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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

I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

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.

As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.

plato

A procession forms behind the French Raj and his fireworks bearer as they head out the door. I've lost my Korean colleague / fresh meat in the chaos. I'm sure he'll be able to fend for himself. They have mandatory military service in Korea.

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

i want to do that too

so at the end

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

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

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

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.

yeah

in a post. I want to be remembered