Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) is emptying his pockets, searching for the silver rizlas he apparently has. He refuses to take one of mine (also silver) because the tobacco I'm giving him is already too much to ask. He tells me about the guy who can do 50g of Golden Virginia for a good price, the guy who every other man over 50 knows. I'm not interested.
Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.
no longer writing in the third person
we need to be deconstructing our identities
god being the centre magnet
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.
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
not their contents
lol
idk
Thank you, Jack
brb i will read and reply sincerely
your feed looks like my tumblr