it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
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
ahnaf abrar
which magnetises chains of pins
the site i am dreaming
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
no like which do people call me
not so on: yvf(wthw)
is everyoneback on tumblr now
its good
Thank you, Jack
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.
no i haven't really read anything
isaac
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.
As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
was it worth it