yeah
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.
We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
not so on: yvf(wthw)
no like which do people call me
and the fake qualifier
lol yea
what do you mean
its good
i was tempted to lie about my name
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
...
i want to do that too
ahnaf abrar
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.
its performative
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
Can I see
Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15