Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
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.
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.
hello reader,
much more tactility
in a post. I want to be remembered
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
really i want the internet
not so on: yvf(wthw)
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
December 2025
plato
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
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.
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.