the site i am dreaming
...
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.
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.
Thank you, Jack
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
wait what is that
thank you
i dont understand magnetisation
The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.
hello reader,
abrar?
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.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.
He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.
i understand
yes
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
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.
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
that looks like my instagram account
as in
Lift Analysis
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf