Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
i really havent
hello reader,
is everyoneback on tumblr now
have you read
plato
was it worth it
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
like first name
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
ahnaf abrar
that looks like my instagram account
ion
isaac
its good short few pages
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
and the fake qualifier
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
its good
isaac newton
sorry i am texting like a slav
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
December 2025
A procession forms behind the French Raj and his fireworks bearer as they head out the door. I've lost my Korean colleague / fresh meat in the chaos. I'm sure he'll be able to fend for himself. They have mandatory military service in Korea.
There is a pretty persistent ambient hate in England, a lot of people say vile shit about Muslims or immigrants or whatever, but in my experience most people aren't actual white supremacists. They have a black friend who they get a beer with. One of the good ones. Etc.
My inability to confront the old racist failed actor is distracting me. I decide not to tell her about it.
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."
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.
bro i read nothing in my life
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.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
i have read not even 1 book
abrar?