We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
December 2025
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
...
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
what do you mean
wait what is that
your feed looks like my tumblr
isaac newton
no i haven't really read anything
...
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.
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
plato
bro i read nothing in my life
bro i read nothing in my life
not so on: yvf(wthw)
the site i am dreaming
sorry i am texting like a slav
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
its good
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them