Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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

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

god being the centre magnet

lol

isaac

i love it here

or never left

is everyoneback on tumblr now

its good short few pages

what do you mean

yeah

lol yea

its good

whats your name?

...

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.

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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

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.

Lift Analysis

He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

have you read

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

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.

idk

bro i read nothing in my life

send link

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.

i want to do that too

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people