i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
currently
i dont understand magnetisation
what do you think my name is
was it worth it
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
whats your name?
lol yea
abrar?
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
yeah
isaac
god being the centre magnet
we need to be deconstructing our identities
bro i read nothing in my life
that looks like my instagram account
i want to do that too
its good
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
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.
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.
It's loud and he's gone deaf in one ear, so I don't think he's really hearing anything I'm trying to say. We're both pretty drunk too. It's making for a kind of surreal interactive Business Insider YouTube video of a conversation. He talks, waits for my response, sees my mouth moving but doesn't hear my words, then he imagines something in their place, and replies to that. At least I don't really have to do anything but drink and mime and listen to a lot of bullshit fake gangster talk, being an actor, boxing, the old days, blah blah blah.
Thank you, Jack