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 need to be deconstructing our identities
bro i read nothing in my life
idk
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
ion
feel you
is everyoneback on tumblr now
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
isaac
that looks like my instagram account
or never left
like magnets
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.
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.
send link
...
ahnaf abrar
hello reader,
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
13 |
|
|
H |
|
|
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
|