ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
that looks like my instagram account
no like which do people call me
i love it here
what do you think my name is
yeah
barren land
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.
magnetises a pin
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
was it worth it
your feed looks like my tumblr
not so on: yvf(wthw)
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.
i understand
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.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
what do you mean
like first name
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
no longer writing in the third person