barren land
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
was it worth it
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
send link
i really havent
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
like magnets
i have read not even 1 book
is this you as well
yeah
lol
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
i love it here
wait what is that
idk
which magnetises chains of pins
ahnaf abrar
no like which do people call me
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.
we need to be deconstructing our identities
sorry i am texting like a slav
The studio designs some piece of media to perpetuate the marketable concept of Real London, while the real London is hollowed out by hollow bankers or whatever. Not pulling on that thread. But the yuppies don't mind because they're free to iterate on Real London without any competition from real London because it's too concerned with its slow eradication. And there's nice flats to live in now or whatever. The yuppies can begin to inhabit their Real London.
Thank you, Jack
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.