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

i want to do that too

send link

i really havent

we need to be deconstructing our identities

no i haven't really read anything

god being the centre magnet

what do you think my name is

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people


It Will Get Lighter

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

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.

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.

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.

"Put a blanket."

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

its good short few pages

Thank you, Jack

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

not their contents


was it worth it

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

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

1

. way too specific.

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

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.

whats your name?

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