Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging
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.

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.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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.

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

magnetises a pin

i dont understand magnetisation

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.

ahnaf abrar

no like which do people call me

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

lol

yeah

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

we need to be deconstructing our identities

i was tempted to lie about my name

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

1

. way too specific.

your feed looks like my tumblr

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

what do you think my name is

something religious, a kind of complex, it will get lighter, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

13, H, grate

I Write Goodbye Letter

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