it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
Thank you, Jack
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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.
magnetises a pin
what do you think my name is
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
bro i read nothing in my life
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
no like which do people call me
i really havent
He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.
whats your name?
"Put a blanket."
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was it worth it
isaac
its good short few pages
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.